


A Mother's Love

by Sherloqued



Category: Brokeback Mountain (2005)
Genre: Multi, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-05-05
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2018-09-08 10:29:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 81,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8841100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherloqued/pseuds/Sherloqued
Summary: Originally from an earlier, multi-chaptered work of mine.  In this latest chapter, Dr. Kathryn Harris, Sr. Wildlife Biologist, has taken up residence in this Brokeback Mountain AU 'verse.





	1. Heavenly Virtues

**Author's Note:**

> This part of a series of chapters was originally posted for the 2010 "Walk on the Wild Side' challenge, with just a little bit of inspiration also from one of my pet subjects and favorite books, _The Loop_ by Nicholas Evans.  
>  Events and characters are purely fictitious.
> 
> Musical inspiration: "Star Witness" by Neko Case.

Spring, 1984

"Could use your help this season, bringin’ up the cattle. If you want to." Ennis said. "Just make sure your schoolwork’s all caught up first."

Junior looked up in surprise as she heard her father enter the dining room, her notebooks and papers spread out all over the table.

Want to - did she ever.  It was the news she had been waiting to hear from her father for a long time.

"Yes, Daddy." she answered quietly, but with a cheer in her heart.  
  
Ennis nodded.

"Well, all right then."  he said, leaving Junior to her books.

She could have sworn she saw a ghost of a smile cross her father’s usually stoic features.　

 

* * *

 

Junior and Bobby would only help take the cattle so far; Ennis and Jack or alternately the hired part-time ranchhands would stay up on the summer pasture with the cattle, but Junior could help with the roundup this year.　

"C’mon, girl, that’s it, c’mon now."　

Junior, hair corralled into braids in her cowboy hat and barn jacket, Wranglers and leather chaps to protect her legs from the low-lying, snapping tree limbs and brush, her gloved hands on the reins, gently urged Skye ahead through the trees and brush from the back of the herd, clicking her tongue and pressing her sides gently with her boots, as Skye’s hooves gingerly navigated the rocky, uneven terrain, horse and rider one, as they pushed the cattle up the slope, and over time, helping Skye to resist her natural instinct to flee as she learned to put her trust in her rider, as they made their way through the rough, uncleared terrain, regrowth of scrub pines, and becoming an extension of each other with Junior’s every move reflected in Skye’s.  
  
The wind whistled, the cattle lowed and complained as they moved, Indie and the dogs barked alongside them. It was noisy, dusty and chaotic; and it was beautiful.  
  
"You two doin’ okay?" Jack circled back, checking on Bobby and Junior.  
  
"We’re okay, Dad!" Bobby called out.  
  
"Yeah Jack!" Junior called out too, waving to Jack, happy to lend her pure, clear voice to the chorus.

　

* * *

"Easy." Ennis whispered, slowing his horse.  
  
He took a brief rest when they reached the summer pasture.  It was exhausting work; and though he was still fairly young, he was beginning to feel it. It was bone-wearying, for the horses and dogs too.  
  
But not to the spirit - when they were out here; there was always the respite of beautiful vistas such as this to make him remember just why it was they were doin’ all this for anyway.  
  
And the freedom.  _At least until they took a look at the Profit and Loss Statement for the year_ , _and made payroll_ , he chuckled.  But the years had been pretty good to them.  
  
Jack rode up and joined him, and they looked out over all they surveyed, with pride at everything they'd achieved.  Jack had always admired Ennis’ endless patience, never more clear than when they were working up here together.  
  
Hard work, unconditional love, giving back to others.  
  
Lust was the only thing they couldn’t seem to get a handle on; nor did they want to put the brakes on it, but Ennis and Jack were sure the good man upstairs would understand.  
   
    
 Early May - Don Wroe’s Cabin in Pine Creek   
  
A pickup truck passed Ennis in the no passin' zone, a carful of teenagers speeding, hootin' and hollerin’ out the window in youthful exuberance.  
  
He shook his head in annoyance; normally there was no traffic on this quiet stretch of two-lane highway.   _Just kids havin' some fun is all, nothin' ta get excited about,_ he thought.  
  
But he was tense, and his body ached for Jack's, after having been separated from him for more than a month.  Jack had gone on permanent as a firefighter, and had been on fire watch for the past few weeks.  He would be driving up to meet Ennis at the cabin separately.  Ennis had stopped to pick up the groceries in town and had brought most of their gear with him.  
  
Ennis switched on the headlights; the road was becoming darker as the trees became more numerous and the tree canopy became heavier, leaning over and nearly obscuring the view of the road like a tunnel.  
  
But at last, Ennis rounded the turn that would take him to the cabin and Jack, the view of the lake opening up around him on either side of the road, after he left the dense stands of pine trees behind and approached the clearing and the dirt road that would lead to the cabin.  He felt the fresh, pine-fragrant air against his skin through the open car window, and he felt calm.   
    
He unlocked the front door to Don's cabin, put the beer and groceries away in the refrigerator, set down the pint of whiskey on the counter, and a bottle of wine for the Wroes.  Even at nearly eight o'clock at night, the sun was still bright in the sky.    Ennis glanced over to the telephone; the message light was blinking red on Don's new answering machine.   Ennis hit the play button and was reassured by Jack's voice saying that he was on his way.   He played back the message twice.  
   
Ennis looked around at the curtained windows and buffalo plaid upholstery of Don Wroe’s cabin, shook his head and smiled; small and still rustic with rough-cut, timbered walls, but everything now decorated in hunting lodge style by Don’s sweet wife Bette.   The woodstove, the table lamp made from the shed antlers of a white-tail deer that Ennis had made and given to them as a gift one Christmas, a pair of traditional, wooden and babiche rawhide-laced snowshoes and a gun rack on the wall, a crocheted afghan over the back of an upholstered chair.  
  
_It was all right_ , he guessed.   Ennis chuckled, remembering how it was just a bit better 'n a shack when he and Jack used to come up here to fool around.   He thought back to those times they would come up here; hunting and fishing the furthest things from their minds.  
  
Don had said sure they could stay at the cabin, that the place might need a little bit of cleanin’ up he'd said, since nobody’d been up there since last fall; but Ennis and Jack were happy to do it, and split some of the cordwood for the fire.  
  
He sure hoped Bette had left them somethin' sweet that she had baked that he could have with some coffee later on, and sure enough, she had.    A plateful of cream cheese marbled brownies were sitting on the kitchen counter, covered in plastic wrap, with a note attached.  _Make yourselves at home,_ it said.  
  
After he stocked the fridge with food and beer, Ennis walked through the rooms, one large living/dining room with an efficiency kitchen, cold running water, with a small bedroom and bath at the back, opening the windows to air the place out.  He shook out the down pillows and made up the comfortable bed, put on a pot of coffee.   He walked over to a bookcase, looking for something to read until Jack got there.  Don’s tastes in books ran to crime thrillers and spy novels, and sometimes a good Western.  That was fine, because Ennis’ did too.     Jack's taste ran more toward the Classics; but he'd pretty much read anythin'.  
  
He chose a yellowed and dog-eared paperback by Louis L’Amour, a collection of short stories, took it out to the front porch with a cup of coffee and one of the brownies on a paper napkin, sat down on the cushioned glider bench and settled in for their weekend, waiting for Jack.  If the book was good, he’d recommend it for Jack to take up with him the next time he was away on fire watch.    He left his rifle inside.  
  
The sun slipped lower on the horizon, laying down a trail of light that glowed orange on the surface of the lake.  Ennis shut his eyes and rested them for a bit.  He put his book down; still no Jack.

Ennis had tortured his mind, wonderin’ about what might have happened to Jack while he was away in the war; sometimes seeing indistinct mental landscapes of red, gashed earth and fiery orange jungles, much like the tire iron images from when he was a boy, or what if Jack just went missin' altogether and never came home at all, but when Jack had gotten home, he didn’t ask, didn’t want to trespass into that territory, and Jack let the information out, here and there, as he was able.  
  
Jack had been determined to make all that time count for somethin’, and now worked with the Forest Service as a firefighter, sometimes as a smokejumper if it was called for, putting his parachutist experience to good use, or spending long, quiet hours in a lookout tower on the mountaintops on fire watch, keeping a watch for any smoke plumes and reporting weather readings.   
  
He decided to take a walk down to the water’s edge, put his down vest back on in the cool air.   The temperature would drop quickly after the sun went down.  He locked the door to the cabin; switched on the porch light in case Jack got there before he came back.   Ennis gazed off into the narrows.   A bird skimmed the surface of the lake; Ennis thought that it might be a nighthawk, but wasn’t sure.  
  
A few concentric circles formed on the still water as fish came up to the surface, as if conjured, to feed in the quiet of the evening on the last few, ephemeral mayflies that floated delicately on the evening breeze; a reminder that life was short, and Ennis was happy he’d decided to spend the time he was given with Jack.   The bass sure were jumpin' tonight; too bad he and Jack weren’t out here fishin’ now.  
 

* * *

 

Jack remembered the long drives from Lightning Flat and from work, as he headed up to the cabin.  This was from the time before they moved in together, when Jack still had his little apartment, and it was about an eight-hour drive to the cabin in Pine Creek.

His hair was still wet and slicked back from taking a quick shower, didn't even take the time to shave, he was in such a hurry to get to Ennis.  He had called and left a message on Don's machine at the cabin for Ennis, to let him know he was on his way, then threw a few quick things into a duffel bag and tossed it into the backseat of his truck.　Ennis would have arrived first, and would be waiting for him. 

Jack was thinkin' about how good a kisser Ennis was on the drive up; for a man who was usually so reserved and quiet, he had moments of great passion.  He’d greet Jack with one a them deep kisses with some tongue, and Jack was lookin’ forward to it, gettin’ excited just thinkin’ about it, and about how good it always was between 'em.  
  
"Jack." he’d say. "I ain’t seen ya in weeks."  
  
And the next thing they knew, clothes were comin’ off and they’d end up in bed, or on the couch, or wherever was the nearest place, sometimes with Ennis groanin' all tender in his ear _take me in your mouth_ , and Jack imagined all the things they’d do together, practically red-linin’ it all the way.

It was a welcome distraction from the nagging thoughts he had in the back of his mind about the fire.  The sky was still a little hazy from the smoke, but they’d managed to get it under control.   
 

* * *

 

Ennis walked down further to the small boathouse, where the canoes were kept, and the boat dock attached, the water among the reeds and water lilies so clear and pristine.   As the sun fell further into the horizon, it turned the clouds shades of red-orange and purple across the horizon, and the water a glassy blue, colors changing by the minute as he watched.   The door hinges creaked as he entered the boathouse; the smell of the damp and slightly musty wooden building brought back old memories of times here with Jack.  
  
As the sky slipped into darkness, he heard the calls of spring peepers, and bullfrog voices boomed from the quiet, and the lonely but beautiful wail of a loon from somewhere across the lake.

At long last, Ennis heard Jack’s truck pull up, then felt Jack's hand on his shoulder.

Jack came through the door of the boathouse, rubbing his hands together, exclaiming about how cold it was.　

"Let’s git a fire goin’, warm it up a little, huh?" he said, on his way out to get some of the split firewood for the woodstove up at the cabin.

"But first..." he said, striding over to Ennis, and Ennis pulled him close, pressing his body into Jack's, and they held each other tight, and kissed the way they both had been thinkin' about for a good long time before heading back up to the cabin together.

　

* * *

 

The lilacs were in bloom again, the air filled with the scent of them, as Ennis’ old truck rattled to a stop in the driveway of Alma and Monroe's house to drop off Junior at home after the weekend.  
  
_Alma got her wish_ , Ennis thought, admiring at the home she'd made for herself and her family.   Alma peered through the curtains as she heard the truck pull up, opened the door and came out to greet them, had a quick chat with her ex-husband.  
  
There was a time when she had so much love for him that she didn’t know what she was going to do with it all, after he left; but in time the pain had lessened and she had healed.  
  
Junior was smiling from ear to ear, lugging her suitcase up the front steps and dropping it off in the middle of the hallway.  
  
"Hi Mom!" she said, and ran to catch up with her sister.  
  
"Jenneeeey!"  she yelled.  
  
Jenny had been borrowing her older sister’s clothes without askin’ again.  
  
"Girls, hush!"  Alma called after them, smiling.  
  
Monroe came home from work minutes after, had a brief chat with Ennis before he left.  
  

* * *

 

Dr. Kathryn Harris-Delacroix, or Kath, as she preferred to be called, was a Senior Wildlife Biologist with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, and could quiet down a place just by settin’ foot in it.  
  
"Just like one a them E.F. Hutton commercials." Ennis had chuckled in wry observation the few times he'd seen her come in to Dee's for coffee.   Only it wasn’t because anyone had any interest in what she had to say.  Her rather defensive and abrasive personality didn’t help matters much in that regard, neither.  
  
Some didn’t like outsiders, ‘specially the government, nosin’ around in things that weren’t none a their business.  Some didn’t like the idea of their way of life changin', even if it might be for the better.  Some didn’t need no reason to hate, they just did. So quite naturally, the always courteous and affable Jack had been one of the few to even give her the time of day, and make her feel somewhat welcome.  
  
Kath was in her late thirties, a tall, slim brunette of a rich, chestnut-brown shade, and would have been quite an attractive-looking woman if she paid any attention to such things, which she did not; she was all about her work.  In her line of work, she joked, clean and presentable was about the best she could manage, and she had more important things on her mind.   She was a one-woman crusade.  
  
Despite Kath’s somewhat offputting nature, Ennis enjoyed talking with her too, and to help her where he could, telling her about things that had become a deep part of his life, cattle ranching and the natural world that he knew as well as the back of his hand, his knowledge gained through many years of experience.  
  
She and her colleagues had been called to the area, for among other reasons, to do a research project on a proposed reintroduction of the grey wolf to the Uintas National Forest, and that fact didn’t set too well amongst some folks here; there had been some wolf shootings in the area because of complaints about wolves taking household pets and livestock, and what was goin' to be done about reimbursing the ranchers for it; but everyone really wondered if the shootings might be a response to the general opposition to the idea of the reintroduction plan, and public hearings were held to express their fears and trepidations, which Ennis and Jack attended as well, and it was hoped they would all try to come to some kind of an equitable arrangement for the clash of nature with mankind's interests.  
  
The grey wolf had been on the Endangered Species List since 1974, after being nearly wiped out in the area.  Similar programs were planned for Yellowstone and Rocky Mountain National Parks  and Central Idaho, and other parts of their former ranges.  
  
At the end of her presentation, Kath opened the floor to questions.  
  
"All legitimate concerns, I can assure you."  she said, as she tried to maintain order.  
  
It was just like a quotation she'd heard on a television documentary about them; the wolf was the wild ancestor, the grand father, of the domestic dog; but a few had been determined to remain that way, wild, and perhaps mankind had never forgiven them.  
   
 

* * *

 

Jack and Ennis invited Kath and a few friends over for dinner at the ranch that night; Jack cooked.  
  
"They’ve been here long before us, and I 'spect they’ll be here long after we’ve gone." Tom Calter had said, as if to say that everythin’ had a way of rightin’ itself, in time.  
  
"Well, we certainly do hope they’ll still be here, Mr. Calter." Kath answered him curtly.  "But I’m not planning on taking any chances in the meantime."  
  
But Ennis had always had a soft spot in his heart for the wolves and their wildness, and the sound of their calls at night.

Later, he'd asked Jack about the fire.   
   
"Isn’t that up near Kath’s place?" Ennis asked, not liking the sounds of it. 

"Looks like it might’ve been set."  Jack answered, frowning and brow furrowing in thought.  
  
"You don’t think someone’s tryin’ ta send a message to scare ‘er off, do ya?"  
  
"Dunno." Jack said.   "Could've been somethin' else, a lightnin' storm, we're in a drought.  Or kids 'r somethin'.   You know how it is, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it town with nothin' t'do on a Saturday night, an' after drinkin' and smokin' a little weed, someone gets careless, or some dumbass comes up with a bright idea that gets outta control."  Jack grinned, and winked at Ennis.  
  
"Heh."  Ennis chuckled.  "S'pose you're right".  
  
But Jack certainly had considered that possibilty, and he rubbed his chin in unease, then turned his thoughts to their weekend together, for now.


	2. A Calling

"Mornin' Ennis."

"Mornin', Barb."  Ennis called out, as he lugged in the heavy, dirty horse blankets from his truck for washin' at the Coin-Op Laundr-O-Mat in town, setting them down onto one of the large folding counters with a thud in a cloud of dust.   He plunked down a few dollar bills on the counter for Barb to make change to quarters and to buy some powdered soap, piled them into a couple of the large-capacity washers, dug into his pockets for some more change, and set them to washin'.  He figured he'd drop by over across the street to Dee's for a cup of coffee and some breakfast while he was waitin' for 'em to finish.

He sat down in a booth next to the window.

"Coffee?"

Ennis looked up in surprise to see Kathryn holding a freshly-brewed carafe of it.

"What're you doin' here?"  he asked.

"Dee had a family emergency and no one available to fill in on short notice, so I volunteered for a few hours."  They could hear the banging sounds of Dee's short-order cook Bill getting things started up in the kitchen, and Kath was filling in until the regular waitstaff showed up.

"Oh?"  Ennis was concerned.  "Well, I hope everythin's all right."  he said.

"So do I.  I'll let you know when I hear anything more from her."   Kath said, promising to let Ennis know as soon as she had any news from Delia.  
  
Kath poured them each a cup of coffee, and then slid into the booth opposite him.  "And on what the government pays me, I could sure use the extra income." she teased.    But it was her love for the wild that drove her, and the desire to protect it, not the money.    In a way, the same as his.    
  
Ennis chuckled.  

In the few quiet moments before the mid-morning rush, they talked for awhile.  Ennis said that  he was happy that Junior was coming home from college in Laramie for the holidays, and then asked about how things were going with Kath's work.   Kath went on to explain that she was worried, because with one of the pack of wolves that she was following for her study, the alpha female's telemetry collar had stopped transmitting.   This was not a good sign.   She sometimes wondered if it did more harm than good, scientific interference, only succeeding in making the animals a target for hunters.  Ennis said he had to admire her dedication.

 

* * *

 

"Dad, can I borrow the keys to the truck."  Bobby asked.   "Me 'n Junior are gonna go watch the bonfire."

"Thought we'd all go together, like every year?"  Jack said

"Um, me an' Junior. . .we thought we'd go. . .together." Bobby said.

"Oh."  Jack said.  "Well all right, just don't stay out too late."  He tossed Bobby the keys.                                                                             

 

* * *

 

"Bonfire was nice."  Ennis said as he and Jack got ready for bed.

"Yes it was."  Jack answered, sounding a little faraway and preoccupied.

"I still can't believe she's in college now." he said, referring to Junior.  "She's almost like my own."

"Yep."  Ennis smiled.  "She's got a lot of big plans for the future." 

"She and Bobby are out together tonight."  Jack walked over to the window, looking out, past fencelines and bare trees, and Ennis came up beside him.  Jack always tended to do that when he had somethin' on his mind, good or bad.  
  
"Who'd have thought."

"You're thinkin' somethin's startin' up between 'em."  Ennis said.  He thought so too.

"Can't help who ya fall in love with, I guess.  Nobody'd know that better 'n us."  He took Jack's hand and kissed it.  
  
"Listen to me, will ya, I must sound like an ol' mother hen." Jack said, and Ennis chuckled.

"I wouldn't worry.  They're good kids, Jack.   C'mon, let's go to bed.  They'll be home soon, and all that worryin' ain't gonna bring 'em home any faster."  
  
Bobby was a good son, and fatherhood for Jack had  turned out to be another unexpected joy that his life had presented to him, as there was a time when he'd never thought he wanted children.  
  
"Junior'll be goin' back to school soon, in any case."   Ennis said.   "I'm sure it will pass."  
  
Jack smiled, turned and pulled Ennis into a deep kiss.   After about another hour, they heard the truck pull up outside.

 

* * *

 

Junior and Bobby walked together, talking and laughing, holding hands at first and then walking arm-in-arm down over the grass to the bonfire.

Suddenly, Bobby turned to her and said "I miss ya, Jun."

"I miss you too."  Alma Jr. told Bobby, and then he pulled her close to him and they sat down together on the blanket Bobby had brought, in the first flickering light of the fire, arms around each other, wrapped in the blanket.   They had changed from their Halloween costumes into regular clothes and warm coats.   The stars were very clear and bright, and they shone like pinpoints of light through the dark cloak of sky, so bright that it was almost too much to stare up at them for long.

"You warm enough?" Bobby asked her.

"Yes."  Junior said, and Bobby leaned in to kiss her.

 

* * *

 

A full moon had risen; the October Hunter's Moon, they call it.   A female grey wolf struggled and tried to call out in vain, her strained breath coming in short gasps that only turned to vapor and faded away in the frosty night air, struggling against the foreign thing that was tight around her neck, that had ensnared her from within the sturdy brush.  Her eyes were a pale, pale yellow; nearly white, the color of her silvery coat, and rimmed in black, lucid and keen.  But by some miracle, whether an inexperienced hand that set the loop or metal made brittle by the cold or from  being long forgotten, or by a force of nature that could never be explained by mankind and his scientific theories, her struggling and pulling against the metal snare cable had further weakened the already worn material of the telemetry collar that now served to protect her, and caused it to break away and fall off in the snapping branches, freeing her and alllowing her to slip from the snare without so much as a scratch. 

She lifted up her beautiful face to the moon and called out again, this time in full voice, and sniffed the air.  From in among the aspen trees came her mate and family.  She ran to her pups, and her mate, nuzzling them in happiness and the relief of being together again, and tails wagging, they bounded away, back into the night.


	3. The High Uintas at Stillwater Creek, Part I - Court and Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A much-anticipated trip to the mountains.

The High Uintas Wilderness, UT - Late August 1973  
  
Ennis and Jack prepared for their fishing trip into the Uinta Mountains.  They'd checked in at the Bear River ranger's station with the necessary backpacking permits, picked up a couple of maps, one of which was a topo map, and checked for bear warnings.  Summer was almost over; most visitors and crowds would be long gone.  It soon would be time for the roundup, to bring the cattle down for winter.  Could expect a first snow at these elevations at any time now; winter came early here.  
  
Nature, as beautiful and generous as she was, could be quite unforgiving if you weren't careful.  You didn't want to get yourself into an unsatisfactory situation, caught like some damned animal in a trap, because you were foolhardy and overconfident.  
  
Ennis, now a  journeyman substation electrician after completing his apprenticeship, would be taking on more hours at the power company come fall; and as he had predicted, Jack had been promoted to farm implements and equipment salesman at Gleason's County Tractor and Supply, his way with people and gift o' gab, as Ennis' Irish grandfather used to call it, making him invaluable.   One day you just found that you needed him around, and couldn't do without him.  That's how Ennis had found it was with Jack, so he wasn't surprised when other people did too.  
  
Jack had also gotten an apartment for himself and Bobby; a small and sparsely furnished two-bedroom place in Sundance, WY, off the Old Mine Road; not far from work and Lightin' Flat, and only just a little less sleepy.   It wasn't anything fancy, but afforded Ennis and Jack some privacy as well.   It was time; time for Jack 's own life, time for father and son to get to know each other.   Bobby was in school now, and would be entering second grade in September.  Jack had given Ennis a key and when Jack wasn't home, either picking up Bobby from school or for something work-related, he'd help himself to a beer from Jack's refrigerator, settle in on Jack's slightly worn second-hand couch, turn on the small television and wait for Jack to come home.  Sometimes he'd surprise Jack and Bobby and get supper started, or get take-out from the little Italian place in town; Bobby liked spaghetti.  Or he'd go pick up salad fixin's at the grocery store and a fresh loaf of bread from the bakery and Jack would make them spaghetti with his famous tomato sauce, made from the loosely recalled instructions of a good friend from his Army days, when they would daydream aloud and wish for havin' somethin' halfway decent to eat from back home, and after Bobby was in bed, Ennis and Jack would talk over a bottle of Chianti that filled the cramped galley kitchen and dinette with the aroma of black cherries.  
  
Ada would stop by often, fussing over Bobby and Jack, bringing old dishes or things she and his father no longer needed and thought that Jack might be able to use, or something she'd cooked or baked, on her way to take Bobby to the Lightnin' Flat ranch for the day.   Jack sometimes found it all bit trying, all of her doting on them, but remained patient; utltimately grateful to have his mother's help.  Sometimes Jack was done-in tired at the end of the day; but he and Ennis still made time to spend many a happy morning, afternoon or night in Jack's bed.  
  
Thing's were goin' well over at Ennis' place too; the O'Connor ranch would make a small profit this year, slowly but surely getting out from under the weight of the bank loans, so there was a lot to look forward to.  Jack had talked with Ennis about takin' on more hours, concerned that it would mean less time for the two of them to be together, but he needed the money for Bobby.  Ennis assured him that it was fine; they'd waited this long, what harm could a little while longer do, but he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.  
  
Life had a way of defyin' the best laid plans sometimes, so gettin' their own place was put aside for the time bein',  Jack's responsibilities as a father takin' first priority.    It meant that Jack had very little spare time now; and Ennis understood this, but missed Jack all the same.  They'd talk on the phone daily and Jack would tell him that he missed him; and though Ennis would gruffly dismiss it, he was secretly happy knowing it.  Sometimes they all went out as a family; like when they took the kids to the County Fair and Rodeo, or out for ice cream, Ennis and Junior, Jack and Bobby.  Junior had taken to little Bobby very quickly, as they were about the same age, Junior just a few months older than Bobby.  
  
Ennis was looking forward to this fishing trip as a last short break, more so than usual.

* * *

  
The Uintas were one of only two mountain ranges with an orientation running East to West, the other being the Brooks Range in Alaska, and rose to over thirteen thousand feet of jutting shale and quartzite, striations carved into them by glaciers in the time before the Cambrian.   Ennis had seen them before, had seen many mountain ranges before, from the Tetons, the Big Horns, and the Gros Ventres, to the Wasatch, the Sierra Nevada and Cascades, but they always left him with a sense of awe, a feeling of being very, very small in the grand scheme of things, yet as much a part of it as any blade of grass or tree, and a sense of sacredness about them.  
  
Ennis and Jack had gone out and bought the latest in camping equipment, hiking and fishing gear, and binoculars for this trip, but no matter what they had, they couldn't have enjoyed their times in the mountains together more.    They set up base camp at Christmas Meadows; it would be an almost 22-mile hike, round trip, and over the course of three or four days, over rocky terrain, to where they were going to fish.   The trail only went so far, there was no path to the lake itself; they'd have to find it via compass, a skill that Jack, with his experience in the Army, was probably even better at than he was, so Ennis had no worries about that.   He could trust Jack to navigate them safely, and between the two of 'em, they'd get to where they were goin'.  
  
Ennis never felt more free than when he was up here in the moutains, and he grabbed Jack and put his arm around his shoulders, and kissed him, for no reason at all, as they hiked their way up the trail.  They started at the trailhead at Christmas Meadows, to make their way up to Amethyst Lake among the fluttering-leafed quaking aspens and the lodgepole pines and Douglas fir, and Ennis thought of some of the other couples he knew, the marriages, divorces, break-ups, partners comin' and goin', and Jack was still with him.   He'd known Jack for almost ten years now.  
  
"What was that for?"  Jack asked, smiling.   Jack didn't care, really, so long as Ennis did  it, and frequently.  It was good to see Ennis so relaxed and happy, so in his natural element.  
  
"Just felt like it."  Ennis said and smirked, as they tramped through a carpet of moss and pine needles, and fallen leaves, following Stillwater Creek.  
  
Ennis nudged Jack's arm, showing him an underground spring that was bubbling up from under the rocks as they made their way around a curve in the trail.   Whether due to chance circumstance, or by some ancestral gift of sensitivity to the telluric currents of the Earth, handed down through the generations, never occurred to Ennis; and when it came right down to it, he and Jack were just glad to have found a pristine source of drinking water, and they knelt down beside it and filled their canteens.    But those who believed in such things might have come to the conclusion that the family patriarch had brought that very same gift with him when he came to this country, when he had first homesteaded the family ranch and found water in the middle of a barren plain.  Ennis would have attributed it to pure, dumb luck.  
  
They heard the bells of sheep and shepherds crossing.    A Forest Service sign alerted them they were entering the Northern boundary of the High Uintas Wilderness area, and shortly thereafter, they saw the trailmarker for Amethyst Lake.  They paused to admire the view here; a clearing in the woods, or a grassy meadow filled with late-summer wildflowers, drifts of them - bright red and orange Indian paintbrush, or "prairie fire" and blue lupines; yellow alpine sunflowers and white columbines; purple larkspur, beardtongues and cornflowers - and where they could see Mt. Agassiz beyond it.  Jack, ever the gentleman, suggested they might bring some home to Grace, if they could get any on their last day that would survive the trip back.  _Pretty poison_ , Ennis thought, ever the practical, as some of them were poisonous to cattle and sheep, man and horse, although he had to admit they were beautiful and that they would be appreciated.  
  
From there, the trail left the Stillwater, and climbed steeply for about another half a mile; reaching the Middle Basin, and they were rewarded with an almost 360-degree, panoramic view of the mountains and rocky cliffs that surrounded it.  They were at almost ten thousand feet in elevation, up with the mountain goats and bighorn sheep.   Huffing and puffing a little now; breathing a bit harder, even for men as fit and used to the higher elevations as they were, as the air was thin up here.  
  
They reached Amethyst Meadow in the late afternoon, and began the familiar routine of Ennis arranging rocks in a circle for a fire ring; Jack raising their food cache high up into the trees with rope and pulley so the bears and other animals wouldn't get to it, and setting up the tent, as they always did upon first arriving.   As night grew closer, true to its name, the sun's retreating light had bathed the lake in the jewel tone as it gradually faded into the horizon.  
  
They shared a bottle of whiskey around the fire.   Ennis passed Jack the bottle, as the last of the fire began to fade into glowing embers.   Jack brought the bottle to his lips, took a healthy swallow and exhaled a satisfied _ahhhh,_ as it went down smooth.  He handed the bottle back to Ennis.  _Uisce beatha_ , water of life, his granddaddy used to say that too.   He chuckled to himself knowin' that no matter where a man came from, one of the great unifyin' things between 'em all was the need to get drunk ever' once in awhile, whatever his drink of choice.  He didn't know why he was thinkin' all of these random thoughts, his mind seemed to be runnin' wild on him this trip.  
  
He didn't always like being alone with his thoughts in the old days, would do anything not to think about certain things, push them out of his mind by keepin' busy, but now, he relished his private thoughts, wanted to share them with Jack.  He wanted to talk to Jack about remodeling the old bunkhouse, or building their own cabin at the ranch, maybe goin'  into a business partnership together one day; he wanted to share everything he had with Jack, to give Jack everything too.  He always felt more free up here in the mountains.  
  
"Bedroll's lookin' awful good right about now."  Jack said, staring into the last of the fire, and Ennis knew what he meant as he felt the same.  
  
"Know what ya mean."  Ennis said, reaching over and squeezing Jack's thigh, running his hand down to feel the squareness of his masculine knee, and back again, to the hardness straining against the denim of Jack's jeans.  
  
They walked back to the tent.  Ennis pulled Jack into a deep kiss, pushing his tongue into Jack’s eager mouth, and they tore off shirts, tee shirts over heads, touching hot skin, pulled off jeans, stroked each other, Ennis' desire for Jack making him half blind and nearly struck dumb, rational sense taking temporary leave, aware of nothing but the sound of his heart pounding and their bodies, in these few square feet of tent.  
  
Ennis grabbed Jack’s shoulders, holding him back for a moment, eyes locked on Jack's, Jack’s strong arms pushing back against his like the kick from his .30-30.  He took Jack's face in his hands, and their mouths came together again hard; neither of them had shaved in a couple days, and Ennis thought he heard a sound in his ears like steel scraping against flint when Jack's bristled jaw rubbed against his as they kissed, sending sparks through his brain.  
  
_Fuck me_ _,_ Jack growled, and Ennis shoved him down onto the sleeping bags and blankets; Jack pulled Ennis on top of  him and wrapped his legs around his waist.  _C’mon_ , Jack breathed, and Ennis spit into his hand, no time for lube, and pushed inside of him, Jack’s shaft rubbing up against his stomach each time he thrust into him, the friction making Jack moan loudly and he came between them, Ennis’ dick hitting that sweet spot inside of him again and again. Jack’s moans, his muscular body clenching Ennis' dick tight, and the feel of his sticky semen between them pushed Ennis over the edge, and he came with a loud groan and collapsed on top of Jack.  Gradually they quieted and their breathing slowed, bodies glistening with a fine sheen of sweat.  The smell of damp earth filled the tent.

* * *

   
Ennis held Jack as night's blanket closed in around them, the stars visible through the skylight window of their new tent.  
  
"Love you."  he whispered, and Jack said the same.  It was something that couples such as they didn't often have the luxury of telling each other openly, so it meant even more to them when they could, and they took pleasure in saying the words.   Jack's overflowing heart filled any emptiness Ennis' heart had ever known.  
  
They slept; Jack butted up against him, his arm over Jack, sleeping bags zipped together, sounds of the night outside.  
  
It was always this way, the first time they came together after not having seen each other in awhile. The quick, brilliant flare of lust like the strike of a match, the joy of being with each other physically again was overwhelming, leaving them dazed, as if coming down from the effects of a drug.  After the inevitable, their hunger for each other sated, they could just be together – joke and laugh, catch up on what each had been doing since they saw each other last, or just comfortable silence.  When they would make love again, at a more leisurely and relaxed pace, it was no less powerful.

* * *

 

Ennis was awakened by the chill night air and the pressure from a full bladder, the reminder of time spent drinkin' hours earlier; and a warm, hazy recollection of sex.   Jack was sound asleep beside him.  He rubbed his eyes, and pulled the blankets closer around them; they were still naked underneath it, and the temperature felt like it had dropped down into the 40's.   The moon had risen outside; bright moonlight streamed in through the skylight of the tent; so it was probably around midnight, but its light had made it almost as bright as day.  
  
He'd left the expensive watch Jack gave him at home; while he appreciated Jack's gesture and that Jack wanted to buy him gifts, he wasn't much for material things, but he knew it gave Jack pleasure to do it, and he enjoyed making Jack happy.   He only needed it when they were back home anyway, and then wore it proudly, an inscription of Jack's love on the back of it, words meaningful only to them.   There was no time when they were here together, and he loved the feeling of having all the time in the world when they were here now, when before there was never enough, and as orderly and routine as their lives had become in the outside world, there was none of that when they were here in the mountains together.  Here, they were not held to the confines of man-made schedules and measures of time; but that of the natural order of things, where the sun and the moon kept track of the days and months and seasons; and the trees, rivers and mountains, the years.  
  
The tent was made of a translucent blue nylon, and the moon's light passing through it had turned everything a magical, bluish hue.   _Stargazer_ , the model was called.   He heard the occasional muffled call of a nearby hoot owl, carried by soundless wing beats descending through the trees, and the steady, background hum of the cicadas, but he didn't mind, it was comforting.   Wind rustled the leaves.  Trees creaked and groaned; every sound seeming louder against the quiet backdrop of night.   He rolled over onto his side, leaning on one elbow, gazing at Jack, sleeping peacefully beside him.  Peacefully, he noted, because it hadn't always been that way.   He'd sometimes been awakened in the night by Jack tossing fitfully in a restless sleep, his dark brows knitted together in the stress of reliving battles and fighting demons unknown to Ennis, because Jack would rarely talk about them except in the most general of terms, and it rarely showed itself in Jack's conscious mind during the day.   Ennis had seen it haunting in his brother's eyes as well.  
  
Ennis'd never let on to Jack that he'd noticed too much, because one, Jack's proud and independent, sometimes stubborn nature didn't always allow for that.  Jack wouldn't ask for help, sometimes flat-out refusing it, so determined he could be about doing things his way; and two, Ennis figured the best way was to let time handle it.   Wouldn't even take his pain medication regularly during his recovery, though sometimes he had to relent and admit he just couldn't stand it.  It was as if the pain helped him hold onto something and made it real.  Had smoked a little dope when he was in 'Nam, and them few times with Ennis up in the mountains, and that had been enough for Jack, and Ennis never had seen what the deal was with marijuana anyway, never did nothin' too much for him, nothin' that drinkin' couldn't do.  _Dont want to dull my senses, hide from my feelin's, Ennis.  Want to face 'up to em,  good and bad_ , he'd told him.  _And you shouldn't, neither_.  
  
Sometimes the things Jack would say like that would leave Ennis in a state of consternation, striking fear into his heart.  Left him not sure what he should do, and he usually didn't take too kindly to anyone tellin' him what to do.  The word shouldn't wasn't in his vocabulary, or at least acknowledged very much, but seein' it was Jack who said it, well, Jack always had a way of making him think twice about things.  
  
Jack shifted in his sleep, then settled back in peaceful slumber, moving in closer to Ennis.  Ennis had always been there to step in when necessary, and they had made it through.   He reached a hand out to comfort Jack as he'd always done, but then thought better of it, not wanting to disturb him, allowing him this peaceful rest, letting the interplay of the moon's light and shadow on Jack's skin do it for him.   He really needed to piss, and maybe have a smoke while Jack couldn't get on him about it.  Ennis grabbed the flashlight and reached into his backpack for the old watch Joe Aguirre had tossed to him, after barking out their job descriptions, in the trailer at Signal before they went up to Brokeback, its leather band worn and face scratched even more now than they were then.   It was a little after midnight.  He thought about what Jack would say if he knew he still had that old watch and smiled.   He tried to get out of the sleeping bag as quietly as possible, pulled on his jeans, flannel shirt and down vest, but ended up waking Jack.  
  
"Where ya goin'." Jack mumbled sleepily.  
  
"Gotta see a man about a horse."  Ennis answered, deadpan, as he laced up his hiking boots, and Jack sputtered into laughter.  
  
"Christ, it's freezin'."  Jack said, shivering, and reached for his clothes, quickly pulling on his thermal tee shirt, jeans and hiking boots, needin' relief as well.  
  
"Freeze yer ass off tonight." he said, as he ducked through the tent flap and stepped outside.

* * *

  
When Ennis got back, Jack had dragged out the sleeping bags from the tent and was lying back with his hands behind his head, fingers interlaced, stargazing.  The sky was sharp with stars.   Jack  began pointing out the constellations -  Aquila, the eagle who carried Ganymede to Mount Olympus; Lyra, the lyre of Orpheus returned to the sky also by an eagle; Orpheus who had been ta hell and back; and Hercules; Sirius the dog star and Orion in eternal pursuit of the Pleiades, the Seven Sisters; a last remaining streak across the sky of a late-August Perseid.  Might have been tempted to wish for somethin', if he didn't already have everythin' he wanted.  
  
Jack had many opportunities to study them, both in the mountains and in other, not-so-pleasant places.   Ennis listened intently as Jack talked about the constellations; he always did enjoy Jack's stories, but he couldn't help but be fascinated by the cluster of stars just under Jack's right ear.    Ennis joined in and located the North Star Polaris, in Ursa Minor, the Little Bear.   One of the brightest and most beautiful stars in the heavens, steady and true, and which had faithfully lead explorers, sailors and the lost safely through unfamiliar territory in the Northern Hemisphere for over a thousand years.   Just as Jack had done for him.   Watching the stars at night had guided and helped pass the time for many an ol' cowboy in big skies over lonesome ranges and prairies.  
  
How they had even managed to find their way to each other at all was a sweet mystery to Ennis.  _One chance in a million,_ Jack had said.    Ennis was grateful that if watchin' the stars had helped Jack pass the time over there, that they had also helped him stay the course and led him back home.   Now he was startin' to sound like Jack, with all of those fanciful ideas of his.  He'd done a little travelin', enjoyed the places he'd been to greatly; but he wasn't much of a wanderer, this was his home.   Unless it was someplace Jack was goin'.   Jack moved in closer to Ennis and rested his head in Ennis' lap, still lookin' up at the stars.   Ennis laughed and said he hoped that the bear in the sky was the only one they ran into this trip.   Jack said he had seen the Southern Cross when he was overseas, in Sydney and in Guam, in the Marianas; and that he didn't know which was worse, a grizzly bear or a mountain lion, both of which were distinct possibilities up here, and that he sure as hell didn't want to run into either one.  
  
Ennis checked the time again; it  was 1 a.m.  He'd been up for almost exactly one hour.  Ennis sat up with Jack for a little while longer, until eventually they drifted off to sleep when the sounds of the night quieted.  Jack was going to be just fine, and Ennis never felt more free than when he was with Jack, up here in the mountains.  
  
First Light - Amethyst Meadow  
  
They got an early start the next morning after breakfast, heard the raucous calls of blue Steller's jays lookin' for food, knowing that humans in the area would give them an easier time of it,  and took some of the coffee with them in a thermos, a chilly morning with a thin, crackling film of ice on the creek, throwing leftover crumbs to the birds.   Washing up and dressing in layers, as it could get up into the mid-70's during the day.   They took as much water as they could comfortably carry, and packed the morning's leftover sourdough biscuits, slapped with some peanut butter and jam, to eat on the way.  
  
They saw a small herd of bison, rising up out of the early morning ground fog mist as the sun began to burn it off.   A big male, the leader, looked them directly in the eye, as if to warn them off, like a cantankerous old gentleman, hot breath escaping his nostrils that the cool morning air turned to plumes of steam.  Ennis and Jack slowed to a quiet stop lest he charge them, not wanting to challenge the old man, and letting him have the right of way, as he and many pounding hooves before him had done for millennia.  The bull nudged one of the calves with his massive head, surprisingly gently, and as the herd moved away, he bowed his head politely in appreciation, it almost seemed to Jack and Ennis.  
  
They saw browsing moose and mule deer;  saw herds of elk crossing and heard their bugling calls, the sound signaling the start of the fall rut and hunting season; but this time, Jack and Ennis were there to fish only.  
  
Where it had been taken on an amethyst glow in the evening, the lake changed to a brilliant, emerald green in the light of morning; reflecting the mountains and trees that encircled it so distinctly that it looked like a world of its own existed there beneath.  Quiet, except for an ocassional ripple on the mirror-like surface, from glassine-winged, iridescent dragonflies alighting there, or a fish coming up for a meal of dancing midges, which was a good sign.  Ennis and Jack tied flies to lines, discussed the advantages of using one kind of lure over another, and cast, lines unfurling gently out onto the deep, still water; and settled in for a relaxing day of fishing along the lakeshore.    The fish were rising, silvery shimmers in the dappled sunlight; and Ennis felt a strike, set his hook, and after a mighty struggle, he reeled in a large brook trout, wading into the shallows to net it, and he heard Jack yell "Man, they're comin' in now!" excitedly that he caught another one moments later.  
  
They caught brook trout, rainbows and browns over the course of the trip, icing them down in the snowbanks, or in their creel cases set into the water.   Back at camp, Jack cleaned and filleted the fish on a smooth rock, his rugged hands working deftly, steel fish knife scraping and glinting in the sun as he worked.  He rinsed the fillets in clean, clear water, dredging them in flour, salt and pepper and cooked them, frying them up in a little bacon fat in a skillet over the fire; and they enjoyed them with spuds that had been wrapped in foil and baked in the fire's grey coals, savoring the taste of the sweet, pink flesh.   Jack hoped they could catch a few to take home, and reached into his backpack for a couple of chocolate bars, tossing one to Ennis for dessert.  They listened to the casette player; Joni Mitchell sang of court and spark.   _Love came to my door with a sleepin' roll, and a madman's soul; he thought fer sure I'd seen 'im, dancin' up a river in the dark._  
  
How could Ennis have known then that he'd fall so in love with the dark-haired young vagrant who showed up lookin' for work at Joe Aguirre's door that day in Signal.  That the one for him would be another man.

* * *

  
They explored a little further after their meal.  As they  made their way up to the timberline, deciduous trees gave way to evergreens, the whole place smellin' like Christmas, until the trees became stunted and gnarled from the harsh winds and weather, and only rock remained, and any low growing alpine vegetation that could manage to hang on under such harsh conditions.  They looked out across to Ostler and LaMotte Peaks, and back down to the lake in the cirque below them, as the wind howled and tore at their clothes, whipping all around.   They'd be heading up there tomorrow.   A large, anvil-shaped thundercloud was forming, and peering through the binoculars, they could see a silver column of rain falling from it, far enough away, but warning of the possibility of a lightning storm, a powerful force of nature and one that they didn't want to be caught in.  
  
It was a most favored place, but just the same, they'd best be on their way.


	4. The High Uintas at Stillwater Creek, Part II - Into the Mystic

Sure enough, the thunderclouds had been true to their promise, as most things were in nature, and there came a quick, gusty hailer driving across the mountain, thunder and intermittent flashes of lightning crackling across the sky, hailstones sending Jack and Ennis running for cover, but they didn’t mind. They had expected there to be in at least one, had planned on it, and it certainly didn’t dampen their enthusiasm any, they’d have no problem figuring out what to do. In their raingear, they moved the tent to a low stand of trees, made sure it was staked and tied securely, and waited it out.

Jack rummaged around in Ennis’ backpack looking for the flashlight; found the old watch from Brokeback. He shook his head; couldn’t believe Ennis still had that old thing, especially since he had that beautiful new one Jack had given him.

Crouching down in shelter together, Jack looked up at Ennis from underneath the graceful curve of the brim of his cowboy hat, with that look that could make a strong man weak, or maybe it was just Ennis’ impression of it.   He put his arm around Jack as the rain and hail pelted the tent, and they were fine.   Once the storm started to ease, they relaxed, and made love under the criss-crossed aluminum tent supports, and under a cathedral of hundred foot pines, the sound of the rain’s gentle patter on the tent’s canopy, Jack's lips coming to rest on the soft cushion of Ennis’.

 

* * *

 

The next day, their last day, was the trip up to Ostler Lake, the one without the trail. It was a long, but easy climb, and they headed up the steep slope that rose dramatically to twelve hundred feet. The sky was a deep cloudless blue, no trace of the storm from the afternoon before, and the air smelled of sweet cut grass, cleansed.  Canada geese honked as they flew overhead in chevron formation, heading south for the winter.  Exposed tree roots unfolded before them like stairs as they made their way up and down the mountain switchback, until the trail ended.  
  
Jack checked the compass, and they headed due northwest until they heard the sound of a waterfall spilling into a mountain pool. A little late in the season for swimmin', but what the hell, it was the last chance they’d get until warmer weather. Ennis wasn’t goin' a wait around for anything anymore. He stripped off his clothes, tossing them in a pile, and yelled "Last one in!", looking back over his shoulder at Jack with a big grin on his face. Jack followed in pleasant surprise, and they plunged into the water, feeling the bracing cold against their skin, coming up to the surface and hollerin’ about how freezin’ it was, and shaking their heads, like they done when they was nineteen, the water flyin’ from their hair like that from the fur of a couple of young pups.

 

* * *

 

It was Sunday. Ennis had kept his eyes open for wild huckleberries, remembering a place, hoped it hadn’t already been picked clean by the birds and bears, and they found them, the last ones of the season, and they rinsed them in the clear water of a stream. Pancake ingredients had been brought in anticipation, flour, sugar, powdered milk, baking soda and salt shaken together in a plastic bag, berries dredged in, and stirred with the last of the eggs.   They fried up the last of the slab bacon so they wouldn’t have to pack much out, topped the pancakes with maple syrup and butter in miniature containers saved from takeout meals at various diners and truck stops for just this purpose.

They spread out a blanket by the lake, and they had a grand old time after sleeping in a little bit later and having a brunch of huckleberry pancakes, bacon and boiled coffee.  Aspen leaves floated gently on the surface, already starting to turn autumn gold, and Ennis picked up a stone and skipped it over the lake, watching it bounce along the surface three times

Jack cut a piece of syrup-covered pancake with the edge of his fork; lifted it to Ennis’ mouth.

"Here." he said, and kissed him as Ennis chewed it. He took his index finger and wiped a bit of the syrup away from the corner of Ennis’ mouth, and tasted it. He then swirled his fingers into the syrup on his plate; bringing his fingers to Ennis’ mouth, and Jack could feel it straight to his groin, lookin' at Ennis lyin' on the blanket next to him, his long torso and the muscles of his abdomen so lean and tight you could prob'ly bounce a goddamned coin off of 'em, and thought about what it would feel like to lick the syrup from down there.  Ennis was happy to oblige him, later on.

Jack picked up the last piece of pancake with his fork, swirled it in the rest of the maple syrup and as he finished eating, he recalled in his mind how they’d gotten to this happy place in their lives:  
  
_He had left home just shy of his eighteenth birthday to try his hand at the rodeo as his Daddy had done, followin’ the rodeo circuit, Idaho, Colorado, Texas, Oklahoma, and even Mexico a time or two; he remembered that first year, livin’ out of his truck, and on his considerable wits, with not much more than the clothes on his back; barely makin’ it.   One day on top of the world for eight seconds, and the next tossed face first into the dirt and nearly stomped and gored, continually strivin’ for that after he’d felt it, that eight second high, the cheers of the crowds._  
  
He’d nearly starved that year, and what made him leave home he didn’t know.  Surely his Daddy had been part of the reason, but he’d wanted to see what was out there in the world too, so he couldn’t blame him entirely.  Worked as a gas station attendant, and the odd job when he could get it, or busking on a street corner with Jimbo, one of the rodeo clowns who also played guitar, singin' 'n playin' the harmonica for tips and passing change.  One day in near desperation, he'd seen a job board posting for ranchwork at Joe Aguirre's, as he'd done the summer before, herdin' sheep, and got out while he could still walk.

Jack wondered aloud how the ol' bastard was doin’, and Ennis reckoned that since he was the unwitting, and very unlikely, agent of bringin’ ‘em together, they ought to at least be grateful to him for that much. Jack agreed, and said he always wondered if ol’ Aguirre had ever suspected anythin’, what with them big-ass pair of binoculars he took to wearin’ when he started checkin’ up on ‘em, after one particularly ardent day he and Ennis had spent together out in the open grass.  Jack had noticed them the day Aquirre made the long trip up the mountain, like an ill wind, supposedly to personally deliver the urgent message that Jack's Uncle Harold was sick.

"Must’ve gotten an eyeful that day." Ennis said, and he and Jack laughed heartily.  
  
Jack recalled some more; this time thoughts of Bobby.  
  
_"Don’t ya think it’s time that child was baptized?" Jack’s mother had chided him._  
  
Jack looked up from reading the newspaper, and he supposed it was. Bobby was finishing up breakfast with his grandfather. Jack's father winked at him from across the table; as if to say, no use arguin', better off to go along with yer Ma. Jack smiled. Things weren't perfect between him and his old man, but they were better, and he knew his mother only wanted to show off her new grandson to her church friends, and have them be a part of the community.  Wasn't such a bad thing, he thought.  Lien-li was Buddhist, as was the orphanage where Bobby had spent his first years. That’s how Jack had assumed Bobby had been raised, and in his experience, religions were all just different ways of sayin' the same things, didn't matter which one ya chose to believe, but he guessed you needed all the help you could get in this life, and Bobby would be twice blessed.  
  
Any confirmation of a God above Jack found up in the mountains, and whenever he looked at them.  
  
Jack’s drifter ways were comin’ to an end; and he'd thought it was time. He had a child to consider now, and Ennis in his life. He had to think about providin’ for his son, what to do in case he wasn’t able to care for him, and he couldn’t think of noone better to do that than Ennis and Lureen. He’d asked Ennis to be Bobby’s godfather, and Lureen his godmother.  Lureen had flown up from Texas for the occasion.  
  
Bobby had been baptized Robert Thanh John Twist during Sunday morning services at the same church where Jack had been, Lureen and Ennis at Jack's side, his parents and the congregation looking on, and they stepped out onto the manicured church lawn of that bright day for a photograph, steel-blue and white running together in the watercolor wash of sky above them.

* * *

 

The sun set a fiery orange their last night in the mountains, and the waxing crescent moon was hung in the sky as if by a spider’s filament. Fluffy cumulus clouds turned grey in the twilight, looking like the billows of smoke from a great fire, above trees in black silhouette against the orange sky.  As the sky darkened, stars twinkled through cloud cover.  Their last camping trip for awhile.  Jack might have been tempted to make a wish, if he didn’t have everything he wanted already.   They had just finished cleaning up after supper; they'd caught a couple more brook trout in the creek earlier, cleaned 'em, filled 'em with the rest of the dried apples and some wild green onions they were lucky enough to find, and baked 'em whole in foil with some bacon saved from earlier, and the last of the potatoes.  
  
The whiskey was gone.  Ennis took one last drag on his cigarette, then stubbed it out.   Not a ripple marred the lake's dark, glassy surface.  Nothing marred their time together in this place.  The cool night air coming into contact with the warmer water raised a brume that for awhile seemed almost supernatural; blurring the limits between water and sky, time and space, Avalon-like, where anything was possible and nothing was wrong.   As the last of the sun's color disappeared into its grassy, shadowed banks, the only sound was a lone cricket soloist, his notes at a slower tempo now that autumn's chill was settin' in.  
  
Ennis put his arms around Jack's shoulders from behind him as they sat by the last of the fire and leaned into Jack's neck, humming a tune that suddenly came to mind, the feel of his voice on Jack's neck rousing him from his dozy reverie.  _And I want to rock your soul, just like way back in the days of old, and together we will float, into the mystic._ Jack's head fell forward sleepily, his lips brushing against the inside of Ennis' wrists.   Jack felt the bittersweet pang of just how much he loved Ennis just then, risin' up from the wellspring of feelin' deep within him; only this time, Ennis wasn't goin' nowhere.

All Ennis' gruff declarations and protestations of straightness in the beginning, that Jack had tried gamely to accept himself, even as his inner voice told him _you don't seem too sure 'bout that_ , _boy_ and Ennis had seen the way Jack's usually bright eyes clouded over in disappointment whenever he'd said them, Jack bowing his head and pullin' his hat down a little lower, down over his eyes to try and hide it from him, and not being entirely successful.  Accepting Jack.  Jack not daring to hope for more, and having learned not to expect anything too much from him.

"Time ta call it a night, I guess."  Ennis said, with a pat to Jack's chest, and they turned in.  
  
And slowly, the world below began to enter into their minds again, seeping into their conciousness gently and without alarm, thoughts of ranch chores, shippin’ stock and winter feedin’, orders for increased electrical power demand down at the power station, new combine comin’ in next week, first day of school for Bobby and Junior.

They packed and loaded up their equipment in Jack’s truck and drove away after grabbing a quick 25-cent metered shower from the nearby campground, down the gravel road, down Highway 150 to Kamas then to Evanston and home, Jack’s fingers drumming on the side of the truck from the open window to the music on the radio. But it wasn’t like it was before, when parting had left them with months of uncertainty and misery, because they knew they would be able to see each other again, whenever they wanted, and still, the promise of living together in freedom.

"You stayin’ over tonight?" Ennis asked.

"Yep. I'll head out first thing in the mornin’." Jack answered, already thinkin’ about what to have for dinner.

The drive back past Mirror Lake was always so picturesque, like livin' in a picture postcard, the travel and real estate brochures said, and little did the writers know how true that was for Ennis and Jack, how close they’d come, to living their lives in postcards sent a few times a year, sending them to arrange meetings, and then the endless waiting until the next one arrived.  
  
As they turned into the drive, Ennis and Jack could see Grace out in the garden, picking snap beans and tomatoes for dinner, the last before frost, the air heady with the scent of the last of the roses in bloom. She turned and waved to them, and Jack pulled the truck over suddenly in a cloud of dust, and jumped out so that he could help her, Ennis knowing how much he loved the garden. Jack strode over to Grace, with the long, easy gait of an elegant thoroughbred racehorse; spirited, courageous. Ennis felt a deep satisfaction and pride as he watched him.  Jack was completely healed now, no more outward signs of the violent injury to his leg that had threatened to hobble him, but couldn’t keep him down.    Ennis followed behind with the bouquet of wildflowers, and they eventually headed back to the house.  


* * *

  
They had stopped back at the ranch so that Jack could take some of his belongings that were still there back to his apartment. Jack poked through the closet, throwing this and that on the bed, until he found Ennis’ old shirt from Brokeback hanging on a wire hanger in the back of the closet. He called to Ennis, and showed it to him, and speechless, Ennis took Jack to his bedroom, to his closet, and took out the denim shirt that Jack had left all those years ago. He took down the shoebox of all the postcards, letters and photos that Jack had sent him.  Jack put his arm around him. Jack hadn't been able to keep many of the postcards and letters Ennis had sent to him when he was in the Army, and he thought of how he'd read them alone, wherever he was, out in the jungle or back at camp.  He'd commit them to memory, and then light the bottom right-hand corner with his cigarette lighter.  His eyes would chase the words, one step ahead as they burned, hanging on to each one for as long as he could, until the paper curled up into one last piece of black char that turned in on itself and floated away, into the air.  Not that there ever were that many words, with Ennis, and it was only paper, but he hated to have to do it.  Couldn't take them with him, because he had to travel light; couldn't leave 'em behind, on the chance that they might be discovered.   But he had been able to keep one postcard, which he used as a bookmark, the one of the mountain, upon which Ennis had written the words " _You Bet_ " on the back of it, and he still had the most important letter, the last one.  
  
"Forgot about that old shirt."  Ennis finally said.  
  
They decided to keep both shirts there, at the ranch, one inside the other.  
  
  
Kemmerer, WY - June 1973

Alma had done a little recallin' of her own.  
  
_Monroe kissing her, running his hand down her arm, coming perilously close to breast, and to her relief, finally coming safely to rest on the small of her back. Had made her remember a feeling so strong that she got married. She held back; wasn’t ready to go there again, not yet. It was strange, being kissed and touched by another man; it reawakened some kind of imprinting of the lips and hands of another. But when she opened her eyes, it wasn’t Ennis she saw._  
  
_End of the road. She said goodnight and entered her apartment alone. "Goodnight, Alma." Monroe called after her. She waited inside, turning the deadbolt and leaning her cheek against the door, until she heard his car drive away. Had it not been for social civilities, she might have wanted to have him right there. It confused her. He knew she was like a fragile bird, right about now, but he could wait for her._  


As she stopped at the light, and when her mind came back to the present, she drove home in the family Chevy Caprice station wagon, down the tree-lined streets, powered down the window to smell the scent of her lilac tree, the one she'd always wanted to have in their front yard, windowboxes painted white and planted with red geraniums, she and Junior and her new baby on the way firmly ensconced in the middle class, now that Monroe's grocery stores had grown from his father's single store to a chain of several in the Intermountain region.  She remembered a feeling so strong that she got married again to escape it; and one that had never really subsided, even years later, leaving her angry and confused that she still thought of him after all this time.   In her memory now as one would observe the dim glow of a distant star; or sometimes it was hidden behind the sun, but it was always there.  It wasn't that she didn't love Monroe; of course she did, and his even temper and level-headedness was a relief, in the beginning. 

It was just that the sense of trust freely given, and a certain spark from back then, had gone.  Wasn't anyone's fault, it was just how it was.

 


	5. Earthly Delights, 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This series of chapters was written initially for the April 2012 "In the Kitchen" Challenge.

A Hunter's Stew

Waiting for Jack

The drought was over; it was announced by fat, heavy raindrops that fell loudly on the roof, slowly at first, and then faster, flooding down the windowpanes.

Ennis looked up in anticipation from what he was doing, out the the kitchen window, stirring and braising some cubed venison shoulder dusted with a little flour in olive oil in a pan on the stove, making dinner for when Jack and Bobby got home.  The sound was all the more welcome for not having been heard in awhile, a relief.  They'd gotten a nice elk when they were up at Don Wroe's cabin in the late fall, split some of the meat with Don and Bette, along with a nice bottle of wine for them.  Ennis had decided to make a hunter's stew with what was left of it for Sunday dinner. He dropped some peeled russet potatoes into a saucepan of water to be boiled and mashed.

Some might find the taste a bit strong; but it was something that Ennis and Jack enjoyed, the earthy taste of it. It was all in how you cooked it. That and the addition of the musky, woodsy wild king boletes or golden chanterelles that Don's wife Bette would gather and dry in the summers from the nearby fields and grasslands and conifer stands. He added the vegetables - sliced carrots and celery, quartered onions sizzled in the pan with a little butter, crushed grey-blue juniper berries and rosemary, then a splash of red wine. He brought the mixture down to a simmer and waited for Jack to come home.

They were counting on the rain. He hoped that it wouldn't be just a tease that would end before quenching the land's thirst and leaving them all wanting. But the rain kept on, lighter now than those first few, heavy drops, coming faster now in a cooling, steady patter.

He thought of Kathryn, and then the dream he'd had had earlier of the wolf, living alone way out there where she was. Couldn't tell her a thing. But she had become a friend. The fire had started as a brush fire, by a lightning strike that grew out of control, so at least that was no longer a concern, but it had been a little too close for comfort, all the same. What would he have done if he had discovered someone had had been up there. He didn't want to know.

 

* * *

 

"Damn it." the hunter, whose activities would be better described as illegal poaching, muttered angrily. Seemed all of his traps had been sprung and vandalized by someone, destroyed.

 

* * *

 

Ennis heard voices and laughter coming up the walk to the front door, recognized Jack's and Bobby's voices. Must've had company with them.

"Look who I ran into in town." Jack said as they came in, accompanied by Kathryn. "I invited Kath over to have dinner with us. Hope that's all right. Figured you'd have made enough food."

"Well now." Ennis smiled softly as he sliced up some bread. "This is a nice surprise. How 'bout some wine."

"Yes . . . please." Kath said, and Ennis poured them all a glass of the red wine.

"Something smells good." she said.  Her father and brothers used to hunt.

"Venison stew. Nobody makes it like Ennis." Jack said. "I guarantee you're gonna love it."

 

* * *

 

He'd had to ask about ten different people where she was living now. But that was Kathryn, always off somewhere for her work.  The last time it had been somewhere up around Fairbanks, when he'd wanted to see her to pay his respects after he'd heard her mother had died, but he couldn't get that far.  He decided he'd check in with the Post Office and General Store of this one-horse town where she was at now to see where the Fish and Wildlife office was located. He asked the postal clerk if she knew where he could find her.

"You a relative'r sumthin'?" Linda Higgins, the postal clerk, eyed him suspiciously.

"I guess you could say that." he answered her. "I'm her husband. The name's Eric . . . Eric Delacroix." he said, holding out his hand for a handshake, in a gesture of good faith.

"I can leave word for ya over at the Game & Fish, if ya like." Linda answered him coolly, without taking his hand. She wasn't the type ta be givin' out personal information ta strangers.   But it was a small town; and in her position, she knew certain things to be true.

"Not necessary." he said. There was a wire postcard display rack near the postal window, that creaked in its resistance to move, as he turned it until he found one that caught his eye.

"Where's this place?" he asked of the picture.

"Brokeback Mountain." Linda told him.

"I'll just leave a postcard for her, if you'd be kind enough to give it to her the next time you see her."


	6. Earthly Delights, 2

_“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,_  
_But I have promises to keep,_  
_And miles to go before I sleep,_  
_And miles to go before I sleep.”_  
  
_―     Robert Frost, Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening_  
  
  
  
  
  
They sat at the table, enjoying the stew and the wine, talking.  
  
Later, Kathryn said goodnight.   It was getting late, and she should be going.  
  
"Call if ya need anythin'."   Ennis said, reminding her.  
  
"Don't worry, I'll be fine."   Kath smiled.  She could take care of herself.  She thought for a minute, looked back, knowing it would make Ennis and Jack feel better, and so she said, "I will."    And besides, you never knew.

They heard her truck drive away.    
    
Ennis didn't mind having the unexpected company, welcomed it, welcomed Kathryn.   He and Jack did the dishes, cleaned up the kitchen.  
  
But he hadn't had a chance to be alone with Jack, what with demands from work, the kids, life.   Hadn't had a chance to be alone with Jack in that basic, deeply fulfilling physical way between two people.     Jack hadn't seen Ennis this way in awhile - all long and sinewy muscles, animalistic, desire coursing through him as the rain continued, flowing in rivulets over the receptive ground.

 

* * *

    
Eric never knew whether he'd been extremely brave or extremely foolish, pursuing a girl with three protective older brothers.   But they'd all seemed to like him, even her father and mother had approved, and sincerely felt bad when the relationship had ended, and the resulting separation.   Her brothers sometimes kept him up to date with their sister's comings and goings and doings on occasion, much to Kathryn's chagrin.    She'd playfully tease them, in a pretend railing-on about how men couldn't keep a secret if their life depended on it, like a bunch of old gossips. 

Kath was stationed at the rustic little cabin, caretaker as part of her research assignment, but she could make anywhere feel warm and inviting.    Her touch, her scent, was everywhere in it.

"You're not my husband anymore."   she said quietly, but not all that convincingly.    Eric's postcard had been placed up against the napkin holder on the kitchen table, the only thing taken and read from a pile of three days' unopened mail and a folded newspaper.  
  
"Papers, lawyers can't change feelings."  Eric said.  
  
"Eric."  She sighed, walking over to him, holding him close.   She had forgotten how tall he was.  They held each other tightly, kissing, and when they made their way over to the bed it was a given.   They would meet this way from time to time.  Why couldn't they get along like this always - with this basic, elemental physical connection they always had.   Why had everything else always been a conflict.  
  
The soft rain pattered gently on the roof.  A Swainson's thrush sang outside, above the intermittent drum of a ruffed grouse and the distant, ringing calls of spring peepers, sounds floating in through the slightly opened window in the cimmerian hour between day and night.   The fire in the woodstove was burning down; Kath gently eased herself out of bed so as not to disturb Eric, so that she could throw another log on and bank the fire to heat the cabin for the rest of the night, wrapping the quilt around her as she went.   The rinsed dishes and silverware from their earlier meal waited on the kitchen countertop; she'd get to them in the morning.  

For now, this was all that she had wanted, to be lovers.  The clock by the bed ticked, slowly, seemingly back and forth, like the beat of a slow metronome, adagio, at ease, making her eyelids feel even more heavy and drowsy; she slipped back into bed, pulled the quilt up around them, rubbing her feet up against Eric's, and joined him in post-lovemaking bliss.   Eric stirred and smiled in his sleep.  She never knew what all the fuss was about after sex, talking - usually she was just as exhausted as he was and they would both snuggle in sleep, no words needing to be said, only warmth and closeness.


	7. Evergreens in January

Just before sunrise, the end of January, the height of winter. Five bleary outlines appeared in the field of view of her spotting scope, traveling single file, through the snow that drifted with the gentle downslope winds easing over the mountains, bringing a few snow flurries with them; and then, a moment later, two more, bounding along after. Down to the frozen lake that would melt to a little open water as the day warmed. The Hayden Peak pack. Bleary because the cold wind made her eyes water, but she could still make them out.

She was exhilarated; there she was, her missing matriarch and huntress supreme, UT-126-F, with her mate ahead of her, followed by the five robust yearling pups who had survived the winter thus far.  

"Lucky sevens." she says, quietly, almost under her breath, her voice rising to a lilt, and Ben chuckles softly. She moves aside a bit so that he can have a look. His hand rests at her back as he peers through the scope, then he gives her shoulder a congratulatory squeeze.

She and her team had been following tracks and scat trails for weeks. Kath had seen the remains of the bull elk the pack had brought down, heralded by ravens, but knew Blanca was capable of it all by herself. She'd called her Blanca because of her silvery white coat, more white than grey, even though to do so was usually discouraged. It was also a nod to the female wolf of the same name in the Ernest Thompson Seton story that had so affected her as a young girl. Sometimes the department would set up a naming contest for schoolchildren, but they were expected to keep a sense of scientific objectivity and distance, not become attached to just one or two, but to do their best for the entire population of wolves, and above all, keep them wild and as unhabituated to humans as possible. And sometimes, in a human-dominated world, there were difficult, if unfair, choices that would have to be made.

But, being only human after all, they sometimes would give them an informal, unofficial nickname, for a remarkable attribute or quality, or behavior they exhibited, and to help distinguish them. The new pack would probably now have to be fitted with tracking collars; a task that Kathryn suddenly found she did not relish at all.

It would be denning season in a few months, and pack members might strike out on their own too, starting their own families, or have a show-down with the rival Castle Butte pack, the Gunsights, Henrys Fork, Kings Peak, or the Grandaddy pack, or fatal run-in with the powerful hooves and antlers or horns of an elk or bison. Blanca herself had been born into the Castle Butte clan, but wooed away by a lone disperser male, more grey in his coat, fur shot through with copper, who could have traveled many, many miles to locate her, creating the newly-formed Hayden Peak pack. (Quite naturally, he was dubbed "Romeo".)

But it was an ironic tragedy that the greatest threat to their survival was human. The knowledge of the brutal past felt visceral. To be fair, there were times when they did become a threat to livestock, naturally taking the path of least resistance. Sometimes she still wondered if she was the right person for the job; whether she still had the stomach for it. But amidst all of the rancor and disappointment that was wolf reintroduction, she tried to hold on to the thought of a small group of people who came out, waving and holding signs that read _'Utahns Welcome Wolves Home!'_ in a show of support during those early days. And of course, everyone was tremendously grateful to the Nez Perce for stepping up in support of the program and managing the first re-introduction in Idaho on their tribal lands in cooperation when the state would not; and without whose help the program there might never have gotten off the ground.

But for now, today, they were here, and had full bellies, and life was good.  The perfect habitat for the wolves, a cirque fortress; and much of it protected roadless wilderness, all extending out from the tri-state corner shared by Idaho, Utah, and Wyoming. Since their return, riparian areas had recovered and their willows flourished again at river and creek banks; ungulates were on the move again, wary and behaving more like they would have naturally.  And H. Bennett, her amateur photographer friend and Jack's uncle (the "H" stood for Harold) had come with her today to take some photographs while the light was good; she was glad for the company. Kath was tempted to shout, _Whoo-hoo!_ , as much to drive them away from danger as in jubilation, but remained quiet and in the moment, jotting down occasional notes. Ben wouldn't mind or judge if she did jump and shout.

The air was crystal-clear and invigorating.  Ben is setting up his camera equipment.  She was dressed for the weather, in a fleece-lined, knit hat with earflaps and yarn braid ties she bought in Peru where she had spent a year studying wildlife as a grad student, honing her Spanish language skills and learning a litle of the runa simi, the indigenous peoples' language, in exchange for teaching the quirks and idiosyncrasies of American English; hooded parka, a pair of Fair Isle-patterned mittens that she had learned to knit herself, warm boots, and it was still pretty cold, but they were both used to it. She remembered how wonderful it felt when she first spoke to someone in a different language than her own, their language, and was understood.

At intervals, the wind hushed through the snowy branches of lodgepole pine and subalpine fir; like breathing. She became aware of her own breath and heartbeat. A snowshoe hare in winter white camouflage, still and with black-tipped ears alert, came into view, then quickly darted away. The startled flutter of an overwintering bird.

The morning sun began to appear from behind the mountains, in gradual increments, pale, crepuscular shafts of sunlit cold air through spaces between the darker clouds, like stained glass, numinous. She hears Ben's Nikon clicking away, turns to see him leaning in to the viewfinder, camera on a tripod, telephoto lens. The tops of the snow-covered evergreens glowed gold as the sun completed its ascent.

She felt like a mother herself, and these were her children, all wildlife really; she was proud of their success. Nearing forty, she realized she had what most would consider an unconventional life, but she accepted that, and was happy. They made the long trek back down again, snowshoeing part of the way.

The sky turned leaden as they sat in the truck, quietly sipping hot coffee from a thermos, a possibly coming storm. Ben started up the truck for home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Musical inspiration: Aquilo - 'You There'


	8. To Dream of a Wolf

" _Wolf will outrun you.  Mankind will waste his short time on earth trying to destroy him, and will fail.  The elusive wolf will frustrate him at every turn, trying to destroy the undestroyable will even become mankind's life's work - and still he will fail.  Why? Because it is so, made so by a Higher Power than you, friend. They can smell us, they hear us in the forest, and they will always be here."_

 

* * *

 

Ennis thought he heard a howl off in the distance. He walked to the screen door, opened it to look out on the perimeter of the yard to see a grey wolf joyfully, triumpantly, howling and barking up at the sky in the early morning, and he felt the same.  
    
Ennis awoke from the dream at sunrise.  
  
"You hear anythin' outside last night?" he asked Jack at breakfast. "I thought I heard a wolf or coyote 'r somethin'.  Somethin' that must've made me dream about it."

The dream had been quite vivid, enough for him to remember it and have been struck by it, and Ennis wasn't a man who usually put much stock in such things.  
  
"I did, now that ya mention it." Jack answered. "Probably just the dogs."  
  
"I'll go out and check on the animals, just the same." Ennis said.  
  
It had only been the dogs, apparently, their voices transformed by sleep.   The wolf had been just a dream.

 

* * *

  
    
Kathryn stirred in her bed at sunrise, woke and stepped into a pair of slippers, put on her robe over her nightgown. She sighed; the fire had gone out overnight and the cabin was cold.  But she had always been the kind of woman who liked winter, preferred the outdoors and the woods to the cities.  Now she was missing a man in her bed, and thinking about the one she'd been dreaming about the night before.  
  
She thought about him as the aroma of the coffee and the sound of it brewing filled the small kitchen, the only sounds in the house, and it was true.   All the good ones were either married or gay.  In Ennis' case, he was both. What a good man - a devoted father, and so attractive, so down-to-earth, so knowledgeable about everything, the way his dark blond hair curled up from under his cowboy hat at the back of his collar.   He and Jack were obviously a couple, and the relationship seemed to have the kind of free rein that was only built up over years of trust.    She sighed.  Whoever the one was, if there was one, it wasn't going to be Ennis.

Jack was probably the more conventionally handsome of the pair; making most of the women and probably a few of the men too, Kath thought with a smile, take notice whenever he came in to town, but Ennis was the one that Kath found the most appealing.   A quiet man who liked to keep to himself, but the kind who drew you to him anyway. She'd danced with him once, at the barn dance to celebrate Dr. Healey's daughter's graduation from vet school, to a lively, dizzying Western swing, and then a slow two-step.  
  
Growing up with her three older brothers back in Iron County, Wisconsin, she could talk sports and politics with the best of them, loved being outdoors and had been fascinated with Nature since she was a young girl, as far back as she could remember.  Her mother used to tease that if it hadn't been for their much hoped-for daughter's birth, after the three boys and with Kath's father, she was saved from being completely outnumbered by the males in the family.   Kath's marriage, too young to her high school sweetheart, had been a complete and utter disappointment.   But as with most things, nobody could have convinced her any differently at the time.   They had both grown up and apart, he found another girlfriend, and she just had been too stubborn to admit defeat.  Seemed she could never could quit at anything.   She felt bad that she probably had handled everything all wrong.  But loyalty in a relationship was non-negotiable.  
  
After that, she'd had a long-term relationship with a fellow zoology student she'd met in grad school who'd wanted to marry her - but she was much too gun-shy after her first attempt at marriage to try again, and off he went on a research assignment to study the birds of the Ecuadorian rainforest, alone.    
   
She had also found that it wasn't the life for her after all, marriage and raising a family, and her new-found freedom not so easy to give up, and so it had had been a blessing in disguise.   She'd been given the gift of her freedom then, whether she had been ready for it or not.  
  
"Life must have other plans for me, I guess." she'd laughed.  
  
"Everything'll work out for ya, you'll see."  Dee had assured her, when she stopped in for her morning coffee at the coffee shop in town. She was nothing without her coffee in the morning, and she stopped there every morning.   Dee was becoming a bit of a confidante.  

She remembered that after living for months in the cool, clean air of the Rockies, upon her first trip back home and at the airport, the smell of jet fuel and exhaust fumes nearly made her gag.   It was such a difference, she was struck by the fact that she might have lived her entire life and not ever have known it.   She couldn't wait to go back.   She chuckled.  Inexperienced, newly-minted, her steel-shanked hiking boots had set off the metal detectors and caused a minor stir at the airport back home then, but when she arrived at the small regional airport in Idaho Falls, the smiling and welcoming woman who checked her through at Security was unfazed by them, with all of the other backpackers and hikers, professional and amateur wildlife photographers, birdwatchers, scientists, sportsmen, and other lovers of wilderness, old and new, who visited.   They'd carried her for well over a decade since.  Flying into the Jackson Hole airport in Wyoming and seeing the sudden and dramatic rise from the valley floor of the Teton range in winter had been like a dream.  

  
Her mother had been a concerned about what she considered to be her daughter's semi-nomadic existence - too remote, too dangerous, too strange for a woman alone.    Kath patiently explained that it wasn't that isolated - as just one example, the wildlife hiking tours she organized and led at the National Park, had attracted nearly eighty people, brought up in staggered groups, from all around the world, who were in awe, especially the kids.   The bears, wolves, elk and bison, mule deer, wild mustangs and others of the 'charismatic megafauna' were always a big hit.   The grandeur was not just limited to the terrestrial; in the rivers, leaping salmon pushed upstream, running the gauntlet unwaveringly to the place of their birth, to spawn.   But what if someday the place of their birth no longer existed?  Fresh-water mussel shells could be found, cast aside at the river edges, their pearly inner surfaces lustrous in the sandy shallows, that perhaps the river otters had fed upon, their shiny wet coats glistening through the water as they went.   

"Hardly the Lewis and Clark Expedition anymore, Mom." Kath had teased her.    And more was the pity.  
  
Shy mountain lions, the _Puma concolor_ , while not immediately visible, surely ranged and stalked behind the leaves and branches.   The first time she saw one - head lower to the ground than powerful shoulders, tongue curling while drinking at a stream, looking up at her, tight tawny coat over elastic muscles, big paws - the sight stopped her dead in her tracks.   As big as Kath was, pale green eyes, chilling growl.   She could hear all the minute sounds of the forest then, the burble of the water, a solitary bird singing off somewhere in the distance, of no sound.   Unable to meet the animal's gaze she felt an old, primal fear; one that she felt gave her kinship to ancestral peoples who must have felt the same.    She was made keenly aware that she would not emerge the winner if this chance encounter turned quickly bad, but then the brief moment was broken when with a shrug of the powerful shoulders, he leapt and disappeared into the trees; probably just as startled to have encountered her.    One of the most beautiful animals she had ever seen.  But for a long time, one animal had been missing, making the landscape incomplete.   
   
Just how had she come to Wildlife Biology as her chosen field and vocation?   It hadn't been wolves directly, but nature in general.   She thought it must have been from being outdoors as a child and young girl - spring and summer, autumn and winter days till dusk, spent at her grandparent's small farm; especially in her grandmother's perennial garden and where to young Katie it seemed every flower and tree, bird and animal known to humankind lived, just outside the back steps among the broad cordate, or heart-leafed, 'beanstalk' vines spiraling sunward that for a time were taller than she was.   She had never feared snakes.    While not wild completely, it nudged her to look deeper, explore and discover more.  
   
She makes pencil sketches in the margins of her journal notes, tucks in a fern, a wild violet, or autumn leaf between the pages of a field guide to dry.   Wilderness could be a feminine place too.  
  
She came to wolves after learning about their persecution - how they and the bison in North America came within inches of extinction from the entire Lower 48 in the United States and Eastern Canada because of the need to possess.   How could one animal be elevated to a god, vilified as a demon, ascribed mystical and sexual powers, and become scapegoat and living repository for all human failings and rapaciousness?   Who knew what sins had been buried with them in the deep wilderness among the rusty ferns, or what those who could not speak did know.  The more she studied them, the more she came to see they were just wolves.   Magnificent wolves.   It could not happen again.   But this country had not been irrevocably tamed yet; there were still places that were truly wild, still time to protect these remaining places.   It was not too late.  
   
She'd never been to a zoo as a child, her first visit had been as a young adult, and she had looked at it with a different sensibility.   There was no money for extra things like that when she was growing up and they were too far away from the city.   A wolf she saw at a zoo then was surprisingly small, thin, with bristled ruff, made frantic by the captivity and gawkers; far from the giant, slavering creatures of myth, and not deserving of all he had been burdened with by humanity.   Running in endless circles at the perimeter of his too-small enclosure whenever visitors approached, as if doomed forever to a purgatory of constantly having to define and redefine his territory.  

  
The Great Lakes had never lost her wild wolves completely, they had held on tenuously in the North Country bordering Canada, Canada a wide and wild refuge for them, moving back and forth, until they became a protected species under the Endangered Species Act in 1974.   She knew that Ma'ingaan, their Ojibwe name, was spiritually connected to the people, a brother; but they existed only in flashes in Kath's mind, shadow-cast silhouettes, from legend, or complaints of attacks on livestock by a farmer, a report in the newspapers accompanied by a bloody photograph of one that had been shot for a vague, perceived threat, and of course the grisly history of government-sponsored extermination, until she began to study large carnivores as a graduate student.   It was then that she ventured into the woods to see them, with a small group of other students, and with a renowned wolf researcher and professor.   Where as part of a howl survey, she first heard their deep, mournful-sounding, sweeping calls as they searched for one another, question and answer, some frequencies beyond the realm of human hearing; or joining together in confusing chorus, defending their territories from intruders.   How far the sound carried made her realize just how open and vast this jammed-up land once must have been, up to six miles in the forest and ten across the open tundra; and she sometimes thought she'd be content just to hear them, content in the knowledge that they were there, and leave them be.  
   
She took her cup of coffee  upstairs and set it down on the sink vanity, undressed to shower.  She washed, over her smallish breasts that Eric would say were so delicately feminine and pretty when he would kiss them, and then down and across the small laparoscopy scar on her lower abdomen.    She put on her bra and panties after toweling dry, put on her uniform, combed out her hair.  After lacing up her boots, she grabbed the keys to her pickup.  Hurrying down the snowy walk to her truck to go to work, she could hear the first of the red robins, harbingers of spring. 

 

* * *

  
"Sure wish that goverment woman'd go home."  
  
"Nice ass on 'er, though."  
  
"Yep.  She sure is cute, ain't she.  Chasin' wolves is one thing, but chasin' goverment gals in another."  
  
"I know it. Ain't no harm in lookin' though, is there."  
  
"Guess not." The two men laughed.

 

* * *

 

The phone rang; Jack answered it.

"Ennis, phone!" Jack hollered up.  It was one of the Calter brothers, calling about a problem at the ranch.  
  
"Awww hell, why ain't he in church or makin' love to his wife on a Sunday mornin'?" Ennis grumbled under his breath as he came downstairs.  Jack handed him the telephone.  Ennis pulled Jack close; he had hoped that he might spend a little more time with Jack this mornin' before work started, but it wasn't to be today.


	9. Now I Know How The River Feels

Sage Creek Junction, UT – March 1969

Ennis was elated, and it showed. Jack was comin' home today.  It was just before dawn, not much traffic save for the occasional behemoth 18-wheeler lumbering down the highway, the slush and snow in its wake hitting the windshield of his truck as it passed.  Not much reason to be smilin' weatherwise, but Ennis couldn't help himself, and smiled as he drove.  It was starting out to be a cold and damp Wyoming spring day, spittin' snow again after a late-season storm the night before. He thought he might stop in at Dee’s for a hot cup of coffee and some gas before picking up Jack at the train station.  Dee's Roadside Diner was in Sage Creek Junction, which was along the way.

His heart was practically beating out of his chest. When he thought how he could have lost Jack . . . and K.E., well, he didn’t even want to think about it. Soon, they’d be together again, and Ennis wasn’t gonna let Jack go again any time soon.  
  
He'd been out to Fort Lewis to see Jack one time, when Jack could arrange a couple days leave, and when he couldn't bear to be away from him any longer, knowing he was back in the country and so close.   One night, while Jack was undressing, he'd seen the long, purplish scars from where Jack had been shot.

"So that’s it." Ennis had said.

"Yep, that’s it. Pretty, ain’t they?" Jack had answered with a weary smile.

Ennis touched its raised surface; then leaned into Jack’s thigh and rested his cheek on it.

"Goddamn if you still ain't the best lookin’ thing I ever seen, Jack Twist." Ennis had told him, as he kissed Jack’s scars.

On that visit, he remembered Mt. Rainier in the background standing sentinel, keeping watch.   It was a beautiful place for Jack to be, and he had left feeling that Jack was safe there.  He'd been so worried.  
  
Since then, they'd talked on the phone every once in awhile, but mostly it had been work that occupied their time, and dropping each other a postcard or a letter when they could.  
  
When Ennis’d finally decided to hitch a ride on Jack’s dream, he told him so in a letter. He had regrets about hurting Alma, but he regretted not stayin' with Jack right from the get-go the most, and he told him that too. Nobody might have been hurt if he had just followed his heart right from the very beginning.  But he had his beautiful daughter, and he felt lucky for that.  
  
He parked his old pickup truck in the lot around back and made his way into Dee’s, the slush and ice crunching under his boots.

"Ennis, what can I get ya?"  
  
The bell over the door rang as Ennis entered, and Dee greeted him warmly as she looked up from behind the counter. Dee had been a friend of the family for years, and was just about the most decent person you could hope to find.

"Hey, Dee. Cuppa coffee and the breakfast special.  An' a slice of that apple pie a yours, if ya got any." he said.

"Got some just fer you." Dee said. "You’re lookin’ in fine spirits. What’s the occasion?"

"An old friend’s comin’ home from the Army today."

"Well now, that's nice. Wouldn't be Jack Twist now, would it?" Dee said with a knowing smile.

"That it would." Ennis grinned.

"Your brother’s doin’ all right?" Dee asked.  "And how's your little girl?"  
  
"Yep. Gettin’ around a little better now." Ennis said.  "Junior's just fine, growin' like a weed."  
  
"Glad ta hear it. Breakfast's comin’ right up." she said.  
  
Ennis wolfed down his food, got some coffee for the road, and settled the bill, leaving a nice tip for Dee.  
  
"Thanks, hon."  Dee said.  
  
"You bet."  
  
"Oh, and Ennis?"  
  
"Ma'am."  
  
"Don't forget to tell the family I was askin' for 'em, and for Jack too.  Take care now."  
  
"I'll be sure 'n' do that, Dee."  
  
Ennis tipped his hat and was on his way.

  
  
Kemmerer, WY – March 1969

Alma sat by the window, reading the paper. She and Junior moved back in with her parents, and to their credit, they didn’t say much or criticize her about her failed marriage to Ennis. Still, she could sense the "I told you so" in her mother’s voice. Or maybe it was just her mind playing tricks on her, her own self-blame and disappointment with herself at things not workin’ out between Ennis and her. Ennis loved someone else, it was better this way, and she had too much pride left to let anyone know how she really felt about it.  
  
She looked in the mirror; it was as if time had stopped for her as she waited for something, for things to get better between her and Ennis, for him to come around to feeling the way she did, but he never did.   Not much had changed since she first met the lanky cowboy who made time stop for her.   She still didn’t look half bad, she thought. Or at least Monroe didn’t think so, the owner of the grocery store in town, she’d caught him lookin’ a few times. He always seemed to be a little more friendly with her than his other customers, always helping her out to the car with her bags, or offering to help her find something, falling all over himself finding any reason to chat with her when she came in. He had asked her for a date, and she’d said no, but maybe in time. He was attractive enough, although he didn’t make her feel like Ennis had when she’d first started going out with him. Maybe it was time to start the clock again.  
  
Junior came running up to her and climbed on her lap, her hair a tumble of blonde curls.  Alma brushed the hair away from her daughter's brown eyes and kissed her.  She and Junior needed to find a place of their own. She’d found a job over at J.C. Penney’s working as a sales clerk.  Her mother had been good about sitting with Junior while she was at work, and she had Ennis' child support.  
  
She turned to the want ads and perused the "For Rent" section, saw a little apartment that might have possibilities - a three-room place over a laundromat, close to work, and maybe she’d be able to start her little tailor shop business if she set her mind to it. She drove over to take a look, and when the owners found out she sewed, said they were in need of someone to do tailoring work at the laundromat/dry cleaners, and would she be interested in helping out.

 

Seattle, Washington - March 1969

Jack was processed out, and got his discharge pay, never seen so much money in one place and at one time as that. He figured he owed himself one; he decided to take the train home. He took a bus from Fort Lewis to the King Street Rail Station in Seattle, and bought a first-class, one-way ticket to Salt Lake City, which would stop in Portland, Oregon where he would change to the City of Portland train for the ten-hour trip home. Better than having to keep changing buses, and it’d give him plenty of quiet and rest, comfort and room to stretch out his leg. Ennis had asked again in the letter when Jack was coming home, and Jack was finally able to tell him. He’d already written Ennis and told him he was coming. Ennis was picking him up at the train station, and had insisted that Jack stay at the ranch for a few days, before taking him back up to Lightnin' Flat.  
  
Even before he'd left for Vietnam, it had gotten so that Jack spent more time at the Del Mar's than at his own home.  He still had to bring up the subject of his relationship with Ennis, or at least lay the groundwork for bringing it up, with his old man.  They'd cross that bridge when they got to it.  
  
A porter helped him with his bags and guided him to his compartment.

"Goin' home, son?" the porter inquired with a smile, shook his hand and welcomed him.  
  
"Having dinner?"  he asked.  "Yes, thank you, Sir." Jack said, and made his reservation.  Jack handed him his tip, and settled back in his seat.  
  
"You take care now."  the porter said.

He had dinner later in the domed dining car, a steak and a  bottle of a good red wine, after enjoying spectacular views of the Columbia River as it churned its way to the Pacific. He'd shared a table and the wine with a couple from Texas, a ranch foreman by the name of Randall Malone and his wife, LaShawn, who were on their way to Chicago.  LaShawn talked a blue streak; but Jack was happy to listen, speak when he could get a word in, and there sure were no lulls in the conversation.  He was grateful for the company.  
  
Jack had a private sleeper compartment with a private bath.  He pissed, then washed his hands and splashed some water on his face, staring at his reflection for a few minutes in the mirror. Still looked like the same old Jack Twist; a little tired and older perhaps, but he felt different somehow.

He need this time alone, time to think and put things into perspective, try to figure out where he’d been, and where he was goin'. He’d known pants-pissing fear, but also had gained an inner strength and confidence in himself. After what he’d been through, there wasn’t too much that he couldn’t handle now. Not much could be worse than that. He went back to his seat, stretched out, shut his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of peace and contentment, something he didn’t know if he had ever felt, at least in a long time. He’d always seemed to be lookin’ for somethin’, needin’ and wantin’ somethin’, he never knew what. All that was gone now.  
  
When Ennis had visited him in Seattle, a group of young men walked by them and one of them had snarled "baby killer" as they passed, spitting on the ground in front of them.   Anti-war protesters, and probably didn't know shit about life more 'n likely, looking like they was tryin' to be hippies.  Ennis had been outraged, clenched his fist, and said under his breath "I'll kick the livin' shit out of 'im", knowing what Jack had been through.  And he’d have dropped him right where he stood, had it not been for Jack putting his hand on Ennis’ arm and holding him back, saying "Don't Ennis, it don't mean nothin' to me. I know who I am." Inside, Jack had thought, _Do you have any idea what I’ve been through, what I’ve seen, ya fuckin’ useless sack a shit, so that you could have the luxury of speakin’ out against it?_ And he'd shouldered his way past them.  He’d gotten a handle on his anger.  They didn't know that he had come to feel that the war was as unjust as anyone did.  He had to smile though; the usually placid Ennis sure could be a hothead when he wanted to be.  
  
He'd looked around as he boarded the train, a few faces looked up at him pleasantly, mothers and children who noticed his uniform, or preoccupied businessmen glancing up absently.  Nothing like that today, he was thankful to see.

He took Ennis’ letter out from his shirt pocket, the letter that told him of the divorce, and what had lead up to the divorce, and why, and that reason had been Ennis’ feelings for Jack, and he re-read it for what seemed like the umpteenth time. Ennis never had said so much in his damn life, Jack was sure. The words seemed to pour from Ennis right off the pages. He almost felt that if he didn’t keep reading it, actually see Ennis’ words in black and white, he couldn’t believe it. _Do you have any idea at all how much you mean to me, Ennis_ , Jack thought to himself.  He was elated too; he felt like shouting it to the world. _Hey, Ennis loves me. Not Alma, me, he chose me. Jack Twist. It looks like somethin’s finally gonna work out for me fer once._ He did feel for Alma, it would be difficult for her, with a child and gettin’ along without a husband, but he couldn’t help but be overjoyed too.  
  
The conductor announced the next stop; wouldn't be long now.

This thing between him and Ennis, this thing that was always so strong, was not coming in second or being abandoned for the love between a man and a woman. _Two Loves, the love that dared not speak its name, it said in the poem he’d read – and he’d known what its writer had meant; one love somehow better than the other, one love that was privileged and saw the light of day, while the other was relegated to furtive encounters where no one could see, and that you might not ever see again yourself neither._   But not anymore.  His eyes welled with tears, and he blinked them away.

The _click-clack_ of the train’s wheels on the rails, the sway of the train, and the wine were making him sleepy, only the blue lights on at this hour. The porter had made up the pullman bed while Jack was at dinner, and Jack climbed in and closed his eyes.  He felt good; alone with his own thoughts, in the semi-darkness. He thought he might sleep for a week, he was so exhausted.   Well, after first doin’ somethin' else for a week.  With Ennis.  Sometimes Jack wanted Ennis so much, he felt like he could jump right out of his own skin. He’d best try to stop thinkin’ on that, otherwise he’d end up sufferin’ with a hard-on with nothin’ much to be done about it for the long trip home.

* * *

The train pulled into Union Station at 8:40 am the next morning; long, loud whistle announcing its arrival.  Ennis spotted Jack and waved to him; Jack wearing his dress green uniform, and favoring his leg a bit as he walked toward him, but he broke into a huge smile when he saw Ennis.  Ennis came up to help with his bags, and as he took them from him, his fingers touched and interlocked with Jack's for a few discreet moments in the crowd, and Jack embraced him.  _Hey._   Jack breathed; and held Ennis tightly.  They walked to the parking lot, arm-in-arm, loading Jack's bags in Ennis' old truck, and they got in, kissing each other.   Ennis started up the truck, and headed up Route 91 North.  
  
At about Garden City, Utah, Ennis noticed that Jack had fallen asleep.  Ennis turned right onto Route 30 East, which became Route 89 in Wyoming.  He nudged Jack's arm, and Jack opened his eyes to see the sign that told them they were entering Wyoming.   Ennis took the next right, heading for Sage.  The truck's radio was tuned to a Country and Western station.  It was good to be home.

Jack had to chuckle as they got closer to the ranch – same old familiar smell of hay and horseshit – never thought he’d be so glad to smell it again.  
  
"You must be tired."  Ennis said.   "Ma'll probably want to do somethin' for ya, but we can put it off if you're not up to it."  
  
"I think I'd just like to take it easy for tonight."  Jack said.  
  
As soon as Jack entered the house, taking off his green beret just as he'd done with his cowboy hat when she'd first set eyes on him, Grace came right over saying "Welcome home, darlin'", and huggin' and kissin' him.  Ennis had asked everyone not to converge on Jack all at once, and to give the poor man some space, but nobody could help themselves and did anyway, and Grace was so happy to see Jack, and so grateful to him.  There was a cake for him, decorated with the words "Welcome Home, Jack".  Even Ennis' sister Clare, her husband and Ennis' niece and nephew had made the trip from Casper.  
  
Later on, there'd been a parade organized for the local vets, to welcome them home, and Jack smiled outwardly, said and did all the right things, but inside he felt nothing, felt detached, as if he were not really there, as if he were watching everything from afar.  
  
"Grace." Jack said as he kissed Ennis' mother on the cheek.  
  
K.E. was there too.  K.E. looked well as he made his way over with the assistance of a cane and a new girlfriend Carleen, and gave Jack a hearty embrace.   Jack hadn't seen him since that fateful day in Dinh Lang.  It all came flooding back to him, like images from a distorted film reel; he tried to push the thoughts from his mind, will himself back into the here and now.  
  
"Welcome home, bud."  K.E. said.  
  
"You're lookin' good, K.E."  Jack said.  
  
"You too, Jack."  K.E. said.  "You too."  
  
K.E. certainly was looking well.  Aside from his burn scars, he was coming along nicely.  And besides, K.E. had said, "It's better than the alternative, ain't it?"  Jack laughed and had to agree that it was.  
  
Carleen, or Carly, as K.E. liked to call her, had been his physical therapist and who, according to K.E. at least, "just couldn't stay away from him."  
  
Jack laughed.  "K.E."  Carleen rolled her eyes and gave K.E. a playful swat to the arm, then smiled and kissed his cheek.  
  
K.E. said to Jack, "What say we go out ta dinner or somethin', the four of us, celebrate us both gettin' home in one piece, huh? 

K.E.'s tone was upbeat, but there was also a solemnity to his voice that only someone who had experienced what he and Jack had would understand.   Jack thought about Lonnie.  
  
"Sure, K.E."  he said quietly.  
 

* * *

Ennis took Jack to the stables to see the horses as soon as they dropped off Jack’s bags, and Jack had changed into jeans and boots.  They heard ShyAnne’s presence before they saw her, kicking, snorting and whinnying in her stall.

"She’s been a holy terror, wouldn’t let noone near her since you been gone, barely even me." Ennis said with a laugh. "Nobody else but you ever had a way with her."

Jack went over to her stall with his hand outstretched, offering her some hay, and ShyAnne, ears pinned back and eyes blazing, leaned her head warily over the stall door. Jack petted her nose, calming her.

"Missed my girl, how’s she been." he whispered. "She looks good, Ennis." he said.

"Yep, took good care of her for ya. We’ll take the horses out tomorrow, once ya get settled." Ennis said. "You up for ridin’?

"Hell, yeah." said Jack, determined to ride, whether his leg was willing or not.

"Well, we’ll take it easy with that leg a yours, at first." Ennis said.

* * *

Next morning, Jack mounted ShyAnne with a little difficulty; Ennis noted that his face flinched in pain, even though Jack didn't let on.

"Ever’thin’ alright?" Ennis asked.

"Ennis, quit fussin’, it ain’t like I never been on a horse before." Jack said, irritated that his body wasn’t cooperating.

"All right, all right, no need ta go bitin' my damn head off." Ennis said softly, with a patient smile.  
  
The ground was still icy and wet, so they decided to make it a short ride.   But it was a beautiful sunny day; the air was fresh and crisp, and felt good in Jack's lungs, as he felt the ranch breathe life into him again.  The grey tree branches were coated with a thin film of ice from the storm, and glittered in the sun like diamonds.

* * *

Later that night, Jack and Ennis headed upstairs to bed. Jack’s leg was stiff and aching, from doin' too much too soon, and pushin' himself too hard, always somethin' to prove.

Jack collapsed on the bed. Ennis sensed that Jack was having some pain.

"Damn leg’s actin’ up again." he said.

"Want me get ya somethin’ for it, they give ya somethin' at the V.A.?" Ennis asked.

"No, I'm all done with that, just lemme lie down, for now." Jack sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his eyes.  
  
"Ya want some aspirin or somethin'?  Ennis pressed Jack for an answer.  
  
"Ennis, just let me lie down."  Jack repeated, in exasperation.   Then, he thought better of it, no need to be snapping at Ennis, of all people, the most important one in his life.  All he wanted to do was be with him.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ennis."  he said.  "Got no call ta speak ta ya like that.  Just got a bit of a headache is all.  Aspirin is fine."  _Just what is wrong with you now, Twist?  Everything coming along fine, things working out with Ennis, now what?_   His moods seemed to be unpredictable to him sometimes.  
  
"It's alright."  Ennis said. "It's been a long day for ya."  
  
Ennis just shook his head; Jack was just as stubborn as the day was long sometimes.  Jack's doctor at the V.A. had told Ennis to expect a bit of an adjustment period, even though he was coming along just fine physically and psychologically.  Ennis had told Jack's doctors he was family so that he could be with him on one of his physical therapy visits, and it was no lie.  Part of the reason he'd gone out to Seattle was not only to see Jack, but to make sure Jack was taking care of himself, and speak with Jack's doctors to find out if there was anything he should be aware of or needed to do for him.

"I’ll get ‘em and bring ‘em up to ya." Ennis said.  He went downstairs, got the bottle of aspirin and came back upstairs with it and a glass of water, leaving them on the nightstand.  Jack was still sitting there, just as Ennis had left him.

"Here." Ennis said. "Let’s get these off ya."

Ennis took Jack’s boots off, first one, then the other. Then he undressed him, taking off his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off his shoulders. He unzipped his pants, pulling them down over Jack’s hips.  
  
He then went down the hall to the bathroom, ran some hot water in the big old clawfoot bathtub, threw in a handful of Epsom salts, and got some towels.  It was nothin' a good soak in a hot bath wouldn't fix.   Hell, it'd probably do 'em both a world of good.  
  
"Jack, get your saddle-sore butt in here."  Ennis called to him.    He stripped down and climbed in the tub.  Jack joined him in the hot water, and Ennis cupped some of the water into his hands, letting it fall over Jack's back and shoulders, running his wet fingers over Jack's skin and through Jack's hair.  Jack's hair was growing in.  Jack leaned back into Ennis' chest, and Ennis put his arms around him.  It felt good.  Ennis kissed Jack's rough cheek.  
  
"Jack, I ain't seen ya light up in awhile."  he said, reaching over for his pack of cigarettes, and Jack's lighter, from up on the sink.  
  
"I quit."  Jack answered.  "They told me to stop while I was in the hospital, and I just never went back to it, least not that much anymore.  Ain't ya been payin' attention to the Surgeon General's warnin's?"  Jack teased him.  
  
"Yeah, I know all about it.  Next you'll be tellin' me ya quit drinkin' too."  Ennis joked.   He flicked the lighter, the flame rising up between them, and lit his cigarette.  
  
"Yeah, well, don't hold yer breath waitin' fer that."  Jack said.    He took a drag from Ennis' cigarette and closed his eyes, relaxing into Ennis' embrace as he breathed out the smoke.  "You're gonna get me started on all my bad habits again."  
  
"Like you need any help."  Ennis replied.  
  
They both laughed.  Jack had been kidding with Ennis, but when he thought about it, he realized he hadn't meant just the smoking.  He wondered if things would go back to the familiar pattern of him givin' all he had, and Ennis always being uncertain and holdin' back.  He couldn't do that no more.  In all the excitement of his homecoming, he hadn't yet had a chance to mention Ennis' letter.  But still, Ennis had taken that step, done what Jack had hoped for, for so long, and Ennis' family had been accepting.  _Big talker as usual, Twist,_ _and Ennis called your bluff_ , Jack thought wryly, reminded that he had yet to bring up the the subject with his old man.   And yes, the thought of goin' against what most folks thought was right to do what they knew was right - it was exciting, confusing, unnerving, the prospect of having everything they wanted within reach, for both of them.  
  
Ennis pulled him close, Jack settling in again into Ennis' arms.  "Ya still love me?"  Ennis asked, as he gave Jack a nuzzled kiss.  
  
"Never stopped lovin' ya, Ennis." Jack answered, Ennis' question taking him by surprise.  Ennis was full of surprises lately.  "Never stopped."  
  
"Me neither."  Ennis whispered, and kissed him again. "Glad you're home."  
  
"Me too." Jack said.

* * *

After a good long soak, they dried themselves off and went to bed.  Jack’s head fell back against the pillows; Ennis was exciting him. He was tired and sore, but never too tired for that.  
  
"Oh yeah." he half-groaned, half-whispered, pulling Ennis close to him, and he began to cover a ready and willing Ennis’ body with kisses.  
  
Jesus, Jack sure knew how to make Ennis see stars.  
  
  
Da Nang, South Vietnam - March 1969

Lien-li gave her son what she envisioned to be a strong Western name – Robert, and nicknamed Bobby. It had been her father's name, a captain in the French Army.  Bobby had been conceived during a visit to Number Three Tu Do Street, and she had given birth to him months later, all of this unknown to Jack.  Life wouldn’t be easy here for an Amerasian child; and if there was a Communist takeover she feared for him, and for herself.  She hoped it would be better for him in America.  The roll of the genetic dice had given Bobby his father’s striking eyes, and he resembled him very much. She spoke to him in English as best she knew how, and often, and she’d told him stories of how his father was an American cowboy from Wyoming, and had been a sky soldier here in Vietnam.  Today, she told him that he was going to meet him on the way to the military hospital in Da Nang.  
  
She made sure that the amulet, or bua, to protect him was around his neck, cautioned him to keep it with him at all times, and kissed him goodbye.  She then gave the two-and-a-half-year old child to the nurse, with a letter for his father, and was gone.   The poor little boy was terrified, but she didn’t know what else to do.

At least this child was lucky, the nurse knew his father and where to find him.


	10. You're The One For Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few chapters looking back to Jack's time in the army and coming home. Inspired by the lines from the short story and film, where Jack says 'I might be back....if the Army don't get me." I started this story back in 2006, and I'm posting the chapters as I can.

Sage, WY – November 1963

_I gotta go get Jack_.  Ennis thought.   _Shit, he's prob'ly hell and gone by  now, I better call over to the house in Lightnin' Flat._   Ennis dialed the number, Frontier-7-5783.  
  
"H'lo?"  Jack picked up on the second ring.  
  
"Jack.  I’m real sorry about what K.E. said.  He don’t know what he’s talkin’ about. Come back to the ranch if you want to."

"It’s all right, Ennis," Jack sighed. "I dunno what I’m gonna do just now, I think I want to do somethin’ on my own. I gotta go, I’m right in the middle of somethin’, but I’ll talk to ya soon."

"Bye, Jack." Ennis hung up the receiver; thought maybe it might be best for now, let things settle down a little. Maybe he’d call Alma, set things to right with her, put that behind him.

  
  
Sage, WY – March 1964

Grace went out to get the mail, and her heart stopped when she saw a letter from the Selective Service addressed to Kevin Edward Del Mar. A mother’s greatest fear; her son being drafted and sent to war. _Please don’t take both my boys,_ she prayed to herself _._

The phone rang; Ennis answered it.  It was Jack.

"Ennis, bad news, my friend.  I got drafted.  Gotta go ta Fort Lewis in a couple a weeks."

Ennis was silent.

"Ya still there, bud?" Jack asked.

"K.E. too." Ennis managed to say.  
  
"No shit." said Jack.

Ennis tried to make light of the situation.   "Lord help us all with you in the Army.  Remember I've seen your shootin'.  You couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn if ya tried," Ennis laughed. "Can’t ya get out of it?"

"Why, you wanna switch with me? Well, I’d be happy ta switch with, ya, but I don’t think the Army’d like it very much." Listen, Ennis, ya think you can give me a ride to the bus station? I wouldn’t ask, but this shitheap truck a mine ain’t gonna make it much longer."  Because what else was a poor kid from nowhere with no prospects going to do.

"‘Course I can," Ennis said. Why don’t I come up in the next day or two, maybe you can spend a few days here at the ranch before ya go, or maybe we can get up to the mountains or somethin’."

"Sounds good.  See ya in a couple days then." Jack hung up the phone.

K.E. opened his draft notice.

"The Army got Jack too" Ennis said.

"Yeah, well, his kind’ll more ‘n likely get booted out with a Section 81." 

Ennis just shook his head. " K.E., you don’t know what kinda man Jack is."

"Ennis, you’re gonna have more 'n enough to worry about around here with me gone." K.E. flatly answered.

The next morning, Ennis called Jack and got into his truck to make the drive to Lighning Flat.  Jack packed up a duffel bag and said his goodbyes to his family.  
  
Salt Lake City, UT – 1964

Ennis drove Jack to the Greyhound bus station in Salt Lake City, which would eventually take him to Fort Lewis, Washington. When the time came to say goodbye to Jack, Ennis felt cheated as he and Jack watched all the new recruits with girlfriends and loved ones huggin’ ‘n kissin’ ‘em.  He and Jack had to make do with a self-conscious hug, and a "Take care a yourself." Ennis wanted to take Jack in his arms right there and kiss the livin’ hell out of him, but he couldn’t. _Don’t let nothin’ bad happen to him over there,_ Ennis prayed _,_ as he drove back to Sage, feeling like he was going to be sick.  
  
Jack signed up for and completed training as a Green Beret.

  
  
Laos/North Vietnam Border - 1966  
  
MACV-SOG/5th U.S. Army Special Forces Group (Airborne)  
Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol - "Green Berets"  
  
Man, this place was hot.   Sgt. John Charles Twist still couldn’t get used to it – the mosquitoes, and the damn heat and humidity that just wouldn’t quit.  But there was a beauty to the place as well, he thought as his helicopter flew over the bright green patchwork rice paddies, men and women wearing the non la, conical straw hats, tied with brightly colored ribbons, water buffalo pulling a cart behind them. Things that were so different from what he had known. Jack kept a photographic record of everything that caught his eye.  As a Communications Specialist, his training had included Indo-Chinese history and culture and he had eagerly learned what he could about its people, learning the languages spoken, both French and Vietnamese.  When he'd first arrived in-country, he was what was known as a "Shake n' Bake" or "Instant NCO" - an enlisted man promoted to sergeant after ninety days of training, and dropped into this meatgrinder.  Whip n' chill, FNG, fuckin' new guy, cherry boy, 90-day wonder.  You name it, he'd been called it.  
  
The team had been dropped in by helicopter and parachute that evening into the trees, triple canopy in deep jungle, all at once. Once in the trees, Jack cut himself out of his parachute, and climbed down to the ground, taking great pains to leave no trace behind. He would advance, stop, listen, and advance again, using the trees for cover, making no sound, using only hand signals to communicate with the others in the team. This time he was point man, the one-zero, in a team of six – half American, half Hmong tribesmen, or Montagnyards ("mountain people"), as the French had called them, trained by the United States military. They were looking for an NVA enemy compound and sent to gather information about it. He carried a hidden camera, and would report intelligence gathered via radio to loitering aircraft above.

Jack enjoyed working recon; loved the adrenaline rush of it. Every nerve at attention – eyes watching, ears listening for the slightest sound, just his own breathing and heartbeat loud in his ears. His face was sticky with sweat and camouflage.  M-16. Emergency radio and locator beacon. K-bar knife strapped to his thigh, Browning sidearm.  Bandolier of ammunition across his chest, grenades.   Damn, he was weighed down with more friggin’ weaponry than he could ever have imagined, but his training prepared him well. He carried just enough food and water for the ten days. Maybe he couldn’t shoot straight up on Brokeback, but he sure was an expert marksman now. _Wouldn’t Ennis have a laugh at that_ , he thought to himself. These missions, strangely enough, were like an escape for him from his day-to-day existence here, when he entered the mouth of the tiger. On these missions, he lived only in the here and now, didn’t, couldn’t, think about the future. The best he could do was survive and help his brothers here survive, for that is what they had become to him. And he was gettin’ real good at it now, someone who could be relied upon on these most covert and dangerous of missions. _Not bad for a rodeo fuck-up_ , he thought. He was what was known in the military as a "deniable asset", which meant that if he were captured, the military would deny any knowledge of him. No United States uniform, just the "tiger stripes" ragtag pieces of enemy jungle fatigues, no dog tags, no nothin’, nothin’ that would identify him in any way if he were to be captured or killed.  It was as if he no longer existed.   Christ, he needed to piss.

He settled down in his makeshift shelter for the night in the team’s harbor site, laying down his rain poncho to sleep on, mindful of the leeches.  He ate his rice and dried fish LRRP ration.  Another day ticked off and gone until he could go home. He closed his eyes and waited for dreams to come as they did every night. Dreams of the summer of 1963 up on Brokeback, the filtering of sunlight through the trees, scent of pine needles and mountain air, and being with Ennis, Ennis’ touch, Ennis’ mouth on him, Ennis being inside of him . . . Rock-hard and aching from the images in his mind, his fingers enclosed his cock into his fist, and he began to stroke himself, slowly at first, then harder, faster, until he released all his pent-up longing and need into oblivion.  He then drifted off to a light sleep, senses on standby.  He kept Ennis’ shirt in his rucksack like a talisman; noone knew that it wasn’t Jack’s own.

The next day they found the camp. Jack called in the air strike, communicated the the location of ammunitions dump into his radio to the secretly hovering planes nearby, and got his ass out of there quick. Minutes later, he heard the sound of the explosion from the bombs dropped. It was a good clear day; the extraction team helicopters would be able to come in easily and get them out of there.

Now he could return to base camp, get cleaned up, have a beer and maybe write to Ennis. If he didn’t have Ennis, he wasn’t sure how he could make it.  He loved getting Ennis’ letters back; Ennis didn’t say much in them, but it was good to have the contact with him, to read them during the emptiness of  his days when he wasn’t on a mission.

 _Whup, whup, whup, whup_ – Jack could hear the sound of the helicopters' propellers, headed towards the pick-up zone. The ropes and McGuire rigs were dropped as the choppers hovered overhead, and Jack and the team secured themselves onto them, until they could be taken to where the helicopter could land safely.  When they were ready to go, Jack signalled the pilot with a thumbs-up, and the chopper slowly lifted them up and out, kickin' up dust ever'where.  Once they landed, in a clearing near a field of elephant grass for cover, Jack looked up at the pilot, and saw him lookin’ down at him with a shit-eatin’ grin, cigarette hangin' out of the corner of his mouth.  
  
"Well, I’ll be damned, if it ain’t Jack Fuckin’ Twist. Fancy meetin’ you in this shithole. Haul yer ass in here." K.E. hollered down to him over the noise of the helicopter rotors.  
  
Jack climbed up and entered the Huey with the rest of his team.

"Ya look like shit." K.E. said once Jack was inside.

"Yeah I know it.  Gimme a cigarette, will ya? I ain’t had one in ten days" Jack replied. _Shit, K.E. Del Mar. Of all the fuckin’ people to run into. Could this nightmare get any worse. Jack thought._    Hoped K.E. had forgotten what he’d seen back at the ranch, could only cause trouble if he opened his big mouth.   K.E. gave Jack a cigarette, and then the choppers lifted off in formation, flanked by gunships.


	11. A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall

Jack turned on the truck radio listening for the weather report and road closings, windshield wipers beating back the rain.  He sure hoped this wouldn’t turn to snow.  Didn’t want ta have to put no damn tire chains on, but he had 'em in the bed of the truck if he needed 'em.  He wiped away the hurt and angry tears from his eyes, pulled himself together, the words of that Bob Dylan song in his ears.  Jack’s old black 1950 GMC truck’s engine struggled and complained as it climbed in elevation on the 550 mile drive to Lightnin’ Flat.  _C’mon , don’t shit the bed on me now_ , Jack thought.  
  
He switched the channel on the radio, reception fading in and out. Then the glorious harmonies of Lennon and McCartney filled the cab.  
  
Their idyll up on Brokeback had been extended by a merciful God through Indian Summer at Ennis’ family’s ranch. He remembered ridin’ fence with Ennis, Ennis showing him the family property, and just spendin’ time together. Warm days, aspen and cottonwood trees golden with fall color, and their bodies warmin' up the cool nights. That was before Ennis’ stud duck brother showed up.   It was now late November, and everything had come to an end, good weather included.  
  
" _Stay behind closed doors, my ass."_ he thought, remembering how those words stung when he overheard K.E.’s conversation with Ennis. He had been aware of his attraction to men for some time, but hadn’t had a male lover before Ennis.  He had a couple girlfriends in high school; but not much else.  
  
No, his relationships with girls never satisfied him the way the shy, quiet cowboy he met up on Brokeback did. Ennis made his heart sing, made every nerve in his body come to life. He had resorted to all sorts of damn fool antics to get Ennis’ attention.   He wanted to draw him out, make him laugh, get to know him, so infatuated he was, right from the start. Jack was not disappointed once Ennis felt comfortable enough with him to let him in. He loved Ennis’ dry humor, steadiness, and that he always said what was on his mind, nothin' more, nothin' less.  The discovery of each other’s bodies only deepened his feelings. He wasn’t goin’ ta be made to feel ashamed about lovin’ another man.

 _Lovesick over a guy.  C'mon Twist, wake up,_ he thought _.  Aww, who am I kiddin’.  You ain’t never gonna forget him, you even took one a' his goddamned shirts to remember him by_.  
  
He had taken a chance that night, the first night they slept together, inviting Ennis into the tent out of the cold, bringing Ennis’ hand to touch him.   Ennis might've killed him outright for all he knew, but Jack couldn’t stand it no longer, bein’ with him day and night and wantin’ him so bad.  Turned out that Ennis needed it as much as Jack did, shoving him down on all fours and entering him roughly.  Told Jack it was only gonna be a one-shot thing, but came to him the second night, and showed Jack that he wanted more - the second night so tender.  Jack loved Ennis, of that he was sure, and he knew Ennis loved him too. How could they forget that?

 _So what now, dumbass?_ Jack thought.  The threat of deepening U.S. involvement in Vietnam was looming; he sure hoped the Army wouldn’t get him.  Ennis probably could apply for a draft deferment due to family hardship, as he was desperately needed to keep the family ranch running.  Supposed he could do the same, but prob'ly was so banged up from rodeoin' they wouldn’t want him anyway.  Nice family Ennis had though.  K.E. might be an overbearin’ bag a' wind, but it was obvious he cared about his family.   Ennis’ mother was wonderful and understanding; but he had a mother of his own.  Neither he nor Ennis were at the front of the line when they were handin’ out good fathers, it seemed.  Wished he had had some brothers and sisters growing up, might have spared him his Daddy’s wrath at least some of the time.  
  
_Why in the hell are you goin' back there?_   Jack asked himself.  He should at least check up on the old man and he should see how his mother was doing.  The rain starting coming down harder and the wind was picking up; it’d be snowin' further north, sure as shit.  He headed up US 30 E toward Rawlins.  If the driving got too bad, he’d stop there for the night, grab a bite to eat and some coffee to warm up.   
  
Jack fiddled with the radio dial again, searchin' for a weather report.  When he was able to tune in to a news station, he was shocked to hear the report of  President Kennedy having been assassinated.

* * *

It had started to rain; Ennis just stood there in the rain for a few moments.  He knew his brother meant well, but he just didn’t understand.  What their father had taken them to see when they were young, impressionable kids had affected them both deeply, but in different ways.  Both thought that killin' a man, just because of who he loved, was wrong.  But where K.E. learned to accept hate and fear as the way things were, Ennis had found that was something he could not do.   The tire-iron wielding bigot was someone he could fight against, and most everyone would agree that was wrong.  The more insidious thing was the everyday ignorance and attitudes such as "it's ok as long as they don't flaunt it" and "the Bible says it's a sin" thinking that men like he and Jack were more likely to run into.   Why couldn't people see that they were no different than anyone else.   
  
"Ennis!" Grace called to him.  His mother’s voice startled him back to the present, and he returned to the house.  
  
Grace sat Ennis down, taking both of his hands in hers, and looked deeply into her son’s eyes, and said,  
  
 "Ennis, you’re my son and you know I love you. I’m on your side, always. I want you to be happy, and I know Jack makes you happy. Don’t think I don’t know what’s goin' on between you two. To my mind, love is love, don’t matter what form it takes. Things haven't always been easy for this family, always gone our own way too, if we thought it was the right thing to do, no matter what other people think.  We get that from your grandfather.  Go after Jack, ask him to come back here, if he’s still has a mind to.  I’ll have a talk with K.E.  You know he only wants to protect you; he’ll come ‘round eventually.   Plus that Jack’s a damn good worker and we'll need him ‘round here!"  Grace said, with a smile.  
  
Ennis held his mother tight. "Ma, you don’t know what this means to me".

"I do know." she said. _You’ve got your family behind you, no matter what._  
  
Later that afternoon, the Del Mar family turned on their black and white television set and were also shocked to learn of the Kennedy assassination from Walter Cronkite.

  
Lightning Flat, WY - November 1963

Jack pulled into the driveway of the old house around noon the next day.   His mother came out to greet him, he held her and kissed her cheek.  
  
"Hello, Ma." he said.   

"Jack, honey, good ta see ya," she said.  But she looked grave.  "Did ya hear about what happened to the President?" she asked.   She looked as if she'd been crying.  
  
"I did, Ma."  Jack answered solemnly, giving his mother a hug.

He had grabbed the mail on the way in, and flipping through it as he walked up to the house. Along with the some junk mail and bills, there was a letter addressed to John C. Twist, III from the Selective Service System.  He was scheduled to report for his classification physical in three weeks' time. Turned out he wasn't too busted up after all, and was drafted into the United States Army three months later, shipping out to Vietnam in 1965.  
  
Five hundred and fifty miles away in Sage, K.E. del Mar received a similar notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in December of 2006 at Brokeback Slash and Wranglers.


	12. A Change in the Weather

Good Winter  
  
"Time to rise and shine, my love."  
  
Jack whispered to Ennis, kissing him, running his hand across Ennis' bare chest and down over his stomach.  Ennis groaned, both in pleasure and in reluctance to leave their warm bed.   But they wanted to take advantage of this stretch of warm January thaw weather and melting snow to see what needed to be done around the ranch and get a jump on some of the spring chores, take a walk around the property and see how the fields had fared over winter, maybe fire up some of the tractors and equipment.   The winter winds would return soon enough.  
  
"We'll give ourselves a reward with some pancakes at Dee's afterwards."   Jack said.  
  
Over coffee, Ennis told Jack he'd heard Harold Bennett and Kath Delacroix were looking pretty cozy down at the Margarita on Saturday night. He was was glad to hear it.  
  
"She's a nice woman, once you make it past that prickly pear side of her, an' it'll be good to see ol' Ben happy too."  
  
Their ranch was doing well enough that they could afford some regular help, and Harold Bennett Redhawk was one of their ranchhands.    He was Jack's mother's youngest brother from the Reservation in South Dakota, not that many years older than Jack, and had served in the military.  He'd been called "Little Blessed One" as a young child, because he had been conceived during his mother's change of life.  He'd had a bad bout of pneumonia as a younger man and they'd almost lost him, Joe Aguirre comin' all the way up to Brokeback to let Jack know, but he'd made a full recovery.   Had tried to make a go of a spread himself after he got out of the service, but it went bust, so Ennis and Jack had offered him a job at their ranch until he got back on his feet again, or if he wanted to stay on.  Jack thought the world of him.  
  
Jack just smiled. "'Bout time Uncle Harold got up the nerve to ask her. "

 

* * *

   
Kath had been about ready to hang up her apron for the day, with less than an hour to go till the end of the work shift.  Not many customers were left.  She put any tips she received aside to be pooled for the regular workers.  All in all, it hadn't been that bad, filling in while Dee was away.  Quite good, actually.  Watching people come and go, hearing the little bits of conversation, of life being lived.   About the all-important weather, spirits lifted by lengthening days and the arrival of a welcome January thaw.  
  
She hadn't done waitress work since college, but it all came back to her very quickly.  None of life's experiences, no matter how seemingly insignificant, were for naught, it would appear.   She smiled at this.   Taking an apple cider doughnut from the dessert stand on the counter, Dee had said she could help herself, that it would only go to waste if she didn't, she was about to pour herself a cup of coffee to go with it when she saw the gentle and soft-spoken Harold Bennett Redhawk heading over to settle his bill.    Sometimes when he stopped in they would chat for a few minutes.   She found that she looked forward to seeing him.  
  
Kath rang it up.  "How's it going, Bennett." she asked. "How was your hunting trip."   Bennett hunted using the traditional bow; had since he was very young. But never the wolf.  
  
"Not too bad."  He smiled at her. "Got a nice elk".  
  
"Listen, Kath..." he began. "I've been meanin' to ask you somethin'."  
  
"What's that, Bennett?"  
  
"Maybe we could have some dinner together sometime.  Me and you.  What do you say."  
  
She found this to be pleasant, and not unwelcome, but she hesitated, her first inclination being to make her excuses and bolt back out to the kitchen - but instead she found herself smiling and saying, "That would be nice, Bennett."  
  
"Well, all right then.  I'll give you a call sometime, we'll set somethin' up." he smiled.   "Have a good evenin' now."  
  
"You have a good evening too, Bennett." she said as he left. She realized that she finally was beginning to feel at home in this small town, that she was settling in, people getting to know her, and she was getting to know them.  
  
It was just as well they didn't set up a firm date. She was a little bit nervous; and he is very attractive, in his black Resistol hat with long dark hair just beginning to show a little grey that he sometimes wore in a long braid, and brown eyes that crinkled up at the corners when he smiled.  He wore silver earrings that fell from pierced earlobes.  Worked out at Ennis and Jack's place, liked to go hunting.  As a hunter and cowboy, he was not somebody she would have ever thought she'd have anything in common with, much less be attracted to.   Kath still had one of Eric's shirts hanging in her closet back at the cabin, and she hadn't seen him in some time now.   She didn't even know if she still wanted to.   Perhaps it was time to let the old memories go.   At least they had made peace and forgiven each other.  
  
She might even enjoy herself for a change; imagine that.   They'd already talked over coffees a few times, albeit it only here at Dee's place.  But she was nervous because she'd only had one other relationship after she split with Eric, and between being a little afraid to get involved with someone again and working on her Ph.D., she hadn't dated anyone else since, and she hoped that maybe Bennett hadn't been serious and had just been flirting with her, would forget about it and that would be the end of it.   And she didn't have a phone out at the cabin anyway.  
  
But he didn't forget, and they spent a great evening together.  She pinned up her hair and dabbed on a little perfume (he would, in time, kiss her neck), remembered a favorite silver and turquoise bracelet she'd bought at a shop in Santa Fe several years ago and hadn't worn in a long time, found it languishing at the back of a dresser drawer in its original case, took it and slipped it on her wrist.  
  
At the Elk Ridge Inn on their first date, over a glass of wine, a delicious pasta primavera and probably one of the best steaks she'd ever had in her life, and a shared dessert, sitting near a lively, crackling fire, she found that he was well read, enjoyed music.   And that he wouldn't be the kind of man who would let any ghosts in a woman's past intimidate him.  
  
On Saturday nights, they danced and listened to great live Country and Western music over at the Blue Margarita, and she ordered one of their signature Blue Curaçao margaritas that were the size of a small fishbowl.  She got a little drunk.   He made her laugh.  She relaxed.  
  
He said he wasn't much of a dancer, but would she like to.   They danced together, to a slow song, she a little tipsy with the nice, mild buzz from the tequila, a pleasant sensation.   _I could stay just like this, on this comfortable plane, for awhile_ , she thinks.   They talk a little more, their voices low.   He draws her closer to him, gently.   Her hands move from his shoulders, down his chest to his waist and around to his lower back.   The room is hot; from the lights and crush of people on the dance floor.    She can feel the long muscles of his back beneath his cotton shirt.   She rests her head against his shoulder.   He takes her hand, lacing his fingers through hers, and holds them close to his chest.   As he moves with her, she begins to fall into imagining the slow rhythm of him in her bed.  
  
She always loved the deep, lonely sound of a Western guitar, that seemed to have the effect of reaching over long distances.    He is fearless, yet she worries for his safety because of this quality as much as she admires it; generous with the expression of his feelings; has a capacity for forgiveness that humbles her and makes her want to cry after all he'd been through, and all those before him, as she doubts she could ever rise to it herself.   She has been too embittered.  She could understand it if he hated her.  He has lifted from her a burden that for all this time she hadn't even been aware she was carrying, she had become so used to being alone.   She wonders now how she could have been so foolish, wasting her life pining for something the way she had; all that now falls away, and there is only him.  
  
When he takes her home late that first night, kissing her so that her knees go weak, he smells so good, like a mix of a tobacco and sage maybe; or perhaps the clean soap or after shave he uses.  
  
"I'll see you, then."  he says, after they say goodnight.  
  
As he drives away, she feels a disappointment and a mild frustration.   A wry smile then when she realizes, or hopes anyway, that he is giving her what she wants.  To dream of him.  To anticipate him and want him the next time. 

* * *

  
Bennett closes the door of his trailer once he gets home and locks up for the night, hangs his jacket over the back of a chair, the taste of her kiss still on his lips, and the scent of her skin still in his nostrils.   How she feels in his arms.   He sits down on the edge of his bed; and for a moment, is overcome with desire.  He falls back against the bed, half tumescent of body and of mind, and closing his eyes, thinks of her as he drifts off into sleep.

* * *

He was fine with taking things slow, if that's what she wanted.   She was a perfectionist, sometimes a little too judgmental, a little too controlling, a little too demanding of her staff (although he observed a good rapport there), touchy and glacially slow to forgive, confrontational, even foulmouthed, at times.   And in truth, in this harsh environment with its entrenched ideology and opposition, someone in her position had to be made of some pretty sterner stuff, and he admired that about her.   But the woman he now knew was also kind, loving, intensely caring and passionate, capable of great empathy, had a wonderful sense of humor, and a certain surprising fragileness about her, and once in a while, a sadness of some kind.    He will console and comfort her if she will let him.  
  
She is a good-looking woman too; pretty hazel green eyes with dark lashes and brows, fair skin lit with a lovely, high color in her cheeks; hair a rich, coppery brown that falls to below her shoulders, with a long, shaggy fringe of bangs; the kind of a body that looked best to him in a sweater with old boot-cut jeans and cowboy boots.   Which was how she'd looked when he first spoke to her at Dee's, only with her hair up in a clip, in a black turteneck sweater that made him notice the copper in it. Reading over a cup of coffee. But more than that.   Some women had beauty but left him cold.   She was sitting at a table by the window; elegant, reserved, alone as he made his way over to the counter.  On a Saturday morning, between her professional self and the private woman she was, the woman he now knew.   Waiting for something, or maybe in town to do errands.   She looked up at him as he passed, and they both smiled and said hello to each other. 

They were both at Dee's pretty regularly, but it would be awhile before she actually joined him for a cup of coffee.   She'd also been to dinner at his nephew's, and at Ennis and Jack's annual open house at the ranch at Christmas.  As a boy, Jack was always tending to the hobbled lambs, or bringing home wounded birds; at least that's what he thought she might be at first, but she wasn't like that at all.   He'd also run into her a few times over at the Game and Fish, picking up his hunting license and tags, or at a public meeting.   He and Kathryn seemed to be becoming a part of the same circle.    Hunter and wolf lover, he knew what they called her, on friendly terms; now there's somethin' you don't see every day, nor a woman like her.

* * *

   
He offered to help her with repairs around the little cabin, this or that that he thought might need a little fixin', and she thanked him by making him dinner.    She could do the repairs herself, she knew, if she ever could find the time, but she appreciates his help.   She rediscovered a long-forgotten domestic side of her and made dinners for him back at the cabin; cooking was something that she had always enjoyed doing, and it was nice to have someone to share it with, and lavish her attentions on.  He accepted her on her terms, just the way she was; gave her plenty of room and made no demands, was helpful and kind.   Although he never said so, she knew he would expect the same in return.  It appeared, at least for the present, that she made more money than he did.   But that didn't concern her, as long as she could see that a partner was making an honest effort and contribution to the relationship in other ways, gave "a hundred percent" as Bennett liked to say.  Someone she could love solely for the man he was, uncomplicated by those traditional expectations.  But she was getting ahead of herself with that.  
  
"I need someone in my life."   he told her.  She realized she did too.   It was the most basic thing there is.   "I'd like it to be you, and I hope you feel the same.   I'd like to start seein' you, Kathryn."  
  
And later on, when their relationship had progressed to bed, he loved away every bad memory of Eric she ever had with experienced and reverential hands, and maybe some of the good ones too.  He was genuine, plain-spoken and direct, and made no apology for it, and she found this to be intensely exciting and pleasurable.   Well, maybe never all the memories, but she found she suddenly felt free of them.   He began sleeping at the cabin more nights than not.  
  
"I love you."  she tells him, without reserve.  
  
As for the forecast up ahead, things were fine, fine just the way they were.


	13. Chapter 13

Curled up by the woodstove on the sofa after dinner that night, she wearing warm cabin socks and having a dram of whiskey, she and Bennett look at some of his photographs - ones of her, casual portaits, making faces at the camera in her chullo hat from Peru, some silly, some serious; old ones taken of family members by someone else, some taken at the Reservation, Jack as a wonder-eyed baby and child at the world around him.  She thought she must have some old photos lying around in a desk drawer somewhere that she could share also.    Normally she did not like to be the subject of photos.   

"My gosh, Jack was adorable then, wasn't he?" she gushes, and Bennett chuckles.

Photos of the mountains, the wolves, the bighorn sheep and mountain goats, eagles.  Some in black and white; some in color.   No matter what the season, weather or time of day, rocky crags and ridges blushed pink by the sun in the first light of the mornings and the last light of the evenings, or looming grey and primeval against a darkening sky in portent of a coming storm, they never ceased to be affecting in their grandeur and beauty.   Bennett pours a mug of tea for himself.   He sits back down, relaxed in his manner, leans back against the sofa with his hands clasped behind his head, his leg crossed so that his ankle rests on his opposite knee, his body open.   He is wearing just a causal pullover sweater and jeans.  As she admires him, she wonders if he realizes how inviting he is.

Photographs of him as a young man, long-limbed and boyish, were full of the beauty of his youth; but unfinished, somehow.   Now, she thinks, as a mature man, he is even more beautiful.   He has mellowed over the years, as has she.    Neither of them were kids anymore.  

"When did you take these?"  she asks.  "They're really quite good, Bennett."

"Just a hobby.  Something I got into after I got home from the war."  He was too modest.   "Sold a few here and there."  
  
"Well, you really have a sense for it, nature photography.   The portraits too.  Especially the ones at Pine Ridge."  

Kath stretches her legs across his lap.  It is getting late.  She is wearing a man's flannel shirt, unbuttoned, over a rose-patterned thermal t-shirt and jeans, long underwear, socks, her hair up in a clip.    Did she deliberately play down her attractiveness in order to be taken seriously?   Ordinary clothes, and not what most might consider sexy; but on her, they hugged the shape of her body and strong legs so erotically that he hopes she will want him tonight as much as he wants her.  
   
It was implicit that he would stay, but they did not live together.   Not that she wouldn't have wanted to.   Just that while she was working, assigned to the cabin, it would be unprofessional, she thought.   She would not do anything that could be seen as compromising to her work, her staff, or that would put the program at risk.  There were many who would like nothing better than to see it done away with.  She told him this.  Despite her retiring nature, her work has made her known.   Between her published papers and the controversy of her work in certain circles, she'd acquired an undeserved 'infamy' and a level of attention that she could never have envisioned.  Those opposed to reintroduction she expected it from, but even from other advocates, and scientists and academics as well, all with their own agenda to push.   It could be a very fine line to walk.   She had to leave her ego at the door, or it would be handed back to you.   It was not about her anyway; it was about the work.  Any mention of or connection with the words 'conservation',  'enviromentalism', 'government' or 'endangered species' all raised antennae and hackles.  She was misquoted often by reporters and journalists in their attempts to distill a complicated matter into a thirty-second sound bite or attention-grabbing headline.

"I never freaking said that!" he's heard her exclaim.  But a few journalists were just as passionate as she.  
  
Many times the job was more about politics than science, and this frustrated her.   Was it dishonest?   She tried to find the right word.   Perhaps she meant it was the nature of the beast.  
  
Although monogamous by nature and committed, she felt that it was best to stay independent and just slightly wanting for more of each other, that it made a relationship more physically, emotionally, and even intellectually, more satisfying, at least for her, and what did he think about it?    Her experience was that Familiarity bred Contempt and Boredom, and she did not want that to ruin what they had together, or might have together.   To each their own, but to her, casual, or worse, anonymous, sexual encounters had an element of the grotesque about them; reducing something beautiful to something ugly, a mere bodily function, an unthinking reflex.   She'd rather be alone, in that case.

But the drug-like euphoria of sex had a primary, much more sobering purpose, which always caused her to abruptly fall to land again - reproduction, like every other living creature on the planet.  It sure took the romance out of it, to think of it in biological terms only.   The truth was, the thought frightened her, and so she had always been careful.  
  
Coyotes, including the very well urban-adapted modern coyotes, and for all the bad rep they receive, mated for life.   Humans put such a premium on monogamy, but were their own unique animal, complicated, and often fell short of their own mark.   Wolves too, were monogamous for the most part; and she couldn't help but think that driving the animal to such low population numbers and the pack disruption caused by so much indiscriminate killing in the past had caused changes to their breeding habits.  Nature will always adapt and persist.  She spoke a little about her research project - human/wildlife conflict and coexistence; particularly the large, top carnivores such as wolves, mountain lions and bears.  
  
"Everything will be going along just fine and dandy until one day a man will start to go out looking for some strange."  
  
Bennett tried not to smile; he didn't want her to think he didn't take what she said seriously, but her frankness and colorful choices of words were rather amusing.   He almost felt a little sorry for those who fell under the meticulous scrutiny of her lens; she did not seem to be able to accept that human nature wasn't always pretty; in fact, it could be downright ugly.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, I hope I didn't offe...."  
  
"No, no - please, go on."  
  
"Sorry.  You know me."  
  
He knew from experience that it wasn't only men.   He knew she'd meant no harm; how could she have known.   About the woman whom he'd fallen crazy in love with, who turned out to be married and then went back to her white husband.   That's how it had made him feel.  Their differences had become too big of an obstacle for her.  He thought their differences were beautiful.  Kathryn was different though; a lot stronger.  It was a terrible thing to realize you had wasted your love on someone who was not worth it.   He'd long since stopped looking for racial offenses around every corner; there was just nothing to be gained by it, even if many times it was there.   He didn't want her to feel she had to walk on eggshells around that.   Change the subject and move along.  _Just see me for who I am first; a man._ She does.

What must have happened to hurt her so, so that being alone was preferable?    Maybe there was no reason; maybe it was just the way she was.   She must realize that there were never any guarantees in life; things would progress and evolve anyway, despite attempts to keep them in a suspended animation.   But, he was fine with taking things slow, if that's what she wanted.   And it wasn't as if he found white women especially fascinating.  They held no particular fascination for him.  He really could talk to her about just about anything.   There are times that when he listens to her speak, it is like hearing himself talk; his own thoughts.  She is simply, complicatedly, a woman.  
  
"Where did you go to college, Kath?"  
  
"UW-Madison."  
  
"Well go Badgers."  he said.  
  
"Yes."  she laughed.   "And then the University of Wyoming for my graduate work."  
  
"So that's how you ended up here."  
  
She smiled.   Wildlife had always been her first love, but Botany came in at a very close second too.    Bennett, knowing this, would sometimes bring her flowers, wildflowers gathered from the nearby mountains and open fields, larkspurs her favorites; more lovely to her than any formal arrangement.  She loves this side of him; this bit of a Romantic.  
  
"What was your maiden name?"  
  
"Harris.  My brothers' names are Douglas, Brian, and Stephen."  
  
"I had a really nice time that night you know, when we first went out together."  she said.   "Except I think I had a little too much to drink."  
  
He chuckled.  
  
"Good."  he said.  "You needed to.  You were too uptight."  
  
She bursts out laughing.  
  
"Thanks a lot!"  
  
A relationship should not be work, or at least not too much; it should come naturally, or else you were not with the right partner.  Marriage was an out-of-date concept that modern, independent women had been freed of, unless there was the joint task of raising a family, or for youthful, starry-eyed lovers who hadn't yet experienced disillusion and disappointment.   She did nothing casually.   And speaking of which, she could not and would not give less than 100 percent to whatever it was she did; not 75% to a baby and 25% to her job, or 50 percent to her job and 50 percent to a child.   Her mind did not work that way; she was an intensely focused person.   For example, what if she were assigned to be up above the Arctic Circle for months at a time?    It was not fair to a child, or her career, and Kath accepted that and had made her choice.    Her brothers had had enough children to carry on the family genes, and she was happy being an auntie.   One of her nieces looks so much like her that it is remarkable.

He agreed, or maybe just gave up, after that treatise.   "You all done now, or you got anything else to say?"   he'd asked, smiling, quietly patient and unruffled.   The lady sure did protest too much.

 _They are slowly making their way to becoming a couple_ , she thinks, remembering how they had tentatively tested the uncertain ground around each other's pasts earlier in the evening.    _Eric's shirt must have been the giveaway_.   Bennett was observant, and not that he would ask, but that shirt was now just warm and comfortable to her, and practical.

He'd been married before, now divorced, amicably.  Came close again after that once more, but no.  Children? (one, a teen-aged son, whom he sees regularly, nearly grown, lives on the Reservation with his first wife).   As a child himself, he'd been sent to a school where they tried to take the Indian out of him but could not crush his spirit (thankfully), and where he took what benefit he could from it.  

"If the term 'American Indian' was good enough for Russell Means, it's good enough for me." he'd said.

The local library and books had been a revelation to him then, a quiet refuge.   He'd gotten drafted, learned about photography in the war, went to college, (two years at the tribal college on the Reservation in South Dakota and then transferring to USD) after the war with the help of the GI Bill and American Indian scholarships, met Russell Means, Dennis Banks and others as part of the American Indian Movement (wow!), worked for awhile at carpentry and framing houses, did a little traveling, had a go at running his own ranch, learned some more about photography - all these experiences contributing to the making of the man he is today.  
   
"The Northern Lights are romantic, aren't they." she said, musing over another photograph.  
  
"Yes they are."  
  
"Maybe we should go away somewhere, together.    Just the two of us."  
  
"I'd like that."  he said.

"Tired?" he asks, rubbing her calves through the fabric of her jeans.    She was; it had been a long, but rewarding, day.    She felt her work was best done with the aid of not only the five senses, but through intuition and getting out there on your two feet, not only reliance upon statistics and what amounted to educated guesses; and they had been successful.  
  
"Why don't we turn in."  she smiled and said, taking his hand.  
  
Bennett went outside to the porch for some firewood to keep the fire till morning.   Winter moths fluttered steadfastly around the halo glow from the porch light, fixing upon its artificial lunar brightness to navigate them, only to be fooled, led off course and to exhaustion.  She switched it off, as soon as Bennett came back inside.    _Don't hover at the edges, watching.  Go and warm yourself by the fire._  
  
She helps him take off his coat when he returns.   Despite being tired, she feels an excited thrill.  
  
"Your hands are cold.  Here."   she whispers to him, taking them in hers, rubbing them in hers to warm them, then kissing them.  But it is she who is trembling.   She holds them against her chest.    
  
"Kathryn."  
  
He pulls her tightly to him, nearly lifting her up off her feet, and kissing her eagerly, follows her to the bed.    At the edge of the bed, he helps her pull off her t-shirt, and she slips out of her underwear, kicking them away to where the rest of their clothes have been tossed onto the floor.   He kisses her lips, the place where her neck and shoulder meet, her breasts, gently urging her to lie back.   His lips and tongue sweep across her stomach, inner thighs; he inhales her scent, his tongue and fingers exploring her.  She bites down on her lower lip to stifle a groan, unsuccessfully.  She feels his lips curve into a smile on her skin, with the knowlege that he is pleasing her, and he looks back up at her, smiles again.    It isn't long before she wants him.

 

* * *

 

The crescent moon above was razor-thin; remarkably so, the woman thought as she looked up into the sky at dusk, and the winter season's most celebrated constellations, Orion and Sirius, the dog star following him, were starkly clear.   Pulling their dark woolen scarves up over their faces to just below their eyes, they slipped through the familiar woodlands silently and purposefully, as if in a kind of mummer's dance.

They found the wolf in the trap, weakened but still alive.   It looked to be a young, subadult female.  She didn't appear to have been there too long, still had plenty of life in her yet.   They weren't always so lucky with what they might find; many times the traps hadn't been checked in days.  Her eyes glowed back in reflection of the mild light from their headlamps as they searched the area around the trapped animal.  The wolf snarled at them, her ears back and her teeth bared, defensive.  In fearfulness, they knew.   _It's okay now,_ the woman whispered, pulling the scarf down from over her face.  She gently put a blanket over the wolf to calm her and keep her warm, and in case she became aggressive in her fear; but did not sedate her in case the young female might be pregnant.  Wearing gloves, the man tried to pry apart the jaws of the trap with the tire-iron kept in the back of the truck along with bear spray, a metal detector and a pair of bolt cutters, stepping down on either side of the levers.   It was dangerous, but they had to try.   And as soon as she had enough room and was able, the wolf slipped free of the trap and lunged away from them.

They brushed away their footprints with a fallen white pine branch.   Any new fallen snow would do the rest.

 


	14. Thresholds Crossed

Thresholds Crossed

Jack ran the plane over the side of the plank of wood that would become a bookcase when he was done with it; shavings in thin curls falling to the side as he ran than plane over it. A lock of his dark hair fell into his eyes; he tucked it behind an ear with a sawdusted hand to keep it out of the way as he concentrated. He wore some old workpants, a worn flannel shirt and a sleeveless tee shirt underneath it, the gold ring on a chain around his neck visible through the white cotton fabric.  
  
This old, unused barn was set up for his woodworking shop, sawdust piling up on the floor, sawdust that they and the kids would make into sawdust clay for Christmas ornaments to paint and hang on the tree or around the house, tools that used to be his father’s, his table saw, drills. He’d built the sawhorses and the strongback frame from two sturdy beams across them for use as the support for the 17-foot Western red cedar strip canoe he was building, covered with a tarp, and awaiting a good sanding, fiberglassing and coats of resin when the weather got warmer.   The barn still smelled of the rich aroma of cedar.

Jack was also a man who worked with his hands.  He liked to cook and grow his own vegetables and flowers, whatever he could.  He became involved in woodworking and carpentry basically because they couldn’t afford to hire someone to make repairs around the ranch and bunkhouse in the beginning; but he had always enjoyed it and gotten satisfaction from it, and now that was one of the main reasons he kept on doin' it.  That, and the fact that every repair, every improvement made, every piece of furniture they acquired together, every replaced pane of glass, every threshold crossed, was a reflection of and a material symbol of the life he and Ennis had built together.

He remembered the day he had moved in with Ennis at the ranch vividly, but there truly hadn’t been just one day; more like a series of them, one continuous destination from the day they had come down from the mountain together, that had ultimately led to them living together.

He’d started out making a coffee table, didn’t turn out too bad for a first crack at it; then made a bathroom vanity countertop of varnished wood for the downstairs powder room, with a recessed sink basin they’d found at a salvage yard, almost like new. It was like a treasure hunt at these places, with everyone goin' modern and discarding these old things.   He found a leaded glass window edged with panels of stained glass that they put up to replace the one at the top of the stairs to the second floor, which cast soft light into the hallway when the sun passed through it, and a pedestal sink in the master bath; an antique, beveled-edge mirror for over the fireplace, a dark spot here or there, slightly in need of resilvering, but that's what made it all the more beautiful.  
  
The ranch house was old and he loved it, loved the history of it, from the porcelain farmhouse sink and the 1950's O'Keefe and Merritt cast iron gas range in the kitchen, the white enameled finish turned yellow in places from much use, as familiar to him as the ones in his own home growin’ up, to the clawfoot bathtub upstairs in the master bath.  He chuckled as he remembered it had been a big day for Grace when she finally had the dishwasher installed.  They painted the walls in the front room above the beadboard wainscoting an antique brick color, which gave it warmth and brought out the wood tones of the pine floors and the mantel, and the dining room walls were done with a patterned wallpaper they found in the same background color that set it off just fine, painted the wainscoting, crown moulding and trim in a creamy white.  
  
Grace helped them wallpaper Junior's room in a floral print in shades of red on a white background, wallpaper that Junior had picked out herself, and painted the window trim an apple green.   Bobby's room looked pretty much the way Jack had always known it when he stayed at the house, in shades of blue.

Once when times were slow at the ranch, he and Ennis refinished couple of chests of drawers from an unfinished furniture store for Junior's and Bobby’s rooms, when they were little; painted them whimsical colors, each drawer a different one, with different designs, leopard spots, zebra stripes, stars and planets, squiggly lines and geometric shapes, each one a surprise, with faceted crystal drawer pulls for Junior’s, a hodgepodge of multicolored ones for Bobby’s.  
  
It was almost like being a kid again themselves, raising Bobby and helping Ennis to raise Junior. He remembered that  when they went to the fireworks at 4th of July, or to the fair, it was hard to know who was more exicted, Ennis or the kids, when Ennis asked if they could sit as close as possible, didn’t want to to miss a thing.   Growin’ up poor, he and Ennis might have missed out on a lot of things when they were young, but having the kids around was almost like a chance to do it all again, return to their childhoods, but maybe take a slightly different route this time, skip over the bad stuff, see things through their young and innocent eyes.

A tabby cat nosed her way through the door, pushing it open further, and with a soft cry, came running up to Jack, rubbing her head up against his leg, purring loudly. Jack smiled and scratched her behind her ears.

Damn, this place was turnin’ into a menagerie; cattle and horses, chickens, a few goats, the dogs, children, and now this little stray cat who had taken up residence in the barn.  
  
He cleaned up the place; shut the windows, locked the barn door and headed back to the main house, past the corral with one of the horses and a few cattle pawing their way through the snow to reach the grass below, in their heavier winter coats now, the few cattle that remained at the ranch until spring herding together for warmth.  He smiled.   It was holiday time; Ennis had put up a big wreath under the peak of the barn roof, and one on the old tractor too.  
  
But first, he stopped at the mailbox to pick up the mail; there were some bills, junk mail, Christmas cards, one from Lureen.   He tore it open and read the message in her familiar pen:  _I hope everyone is well, give Bobby a big hug from me._  
  
_Well I'll be a sonofabitch,_ he thought.   Lureen had written, just as casually as you please, that she was spending the holidays with Geoff and his family, outside of Brisbane.  They were planning their wedding.  _Never did think I'd marry the boy next door anyway,_ she said.  It was good news; the thought of it made Jack happy.  He couldn't wait to tell Ennis.  
  
"Well, c'mon, then."  he said, chuckling and buttoning up his coat, and the little cat followed him back to the main house.  
  
Christmas Past

For Christmas Eve dinner that one year, just for the family, and before candlelight services later on that evening, he had pulled out all the stops, made his specialty.  One of many according to Ennis, although Ennis wasn’t bad in the kitchen either.   A standing rib roast au jus with popovers and roasted potatoes; easier than it looked, appropriately festive, and to be honest, he didn't mind showing off his culinary skills every now and then, especially for those he cared about.   It set him back a little bit, but he didn't mind.  A couple of bottles of the best Cabernet they could afford, setting aside a cup or so to add to the au jus, salad and green beans; and for Christmas Day, for a bigger crowd, a roast turkey and stuffing with homemade cranberry sauce, a good sparkling wine to start, a Pinot Noir to have with the meal, and some sparkling cider for the kids so they could take part in the toasting too, and plenty of beer.   Liqueurs that were only drunk on special occasions, for after dinner and dessert, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the house, the last of the many delicious cooking aromas that had wafted through the house that day.  
  
A fire was goin’ in the livin’ room, laid with twigs and pinecones for kindlin’, and from a basket on the hearth, pinecone firestarters that crackled and popped and flashed brilliant colors in the flames.  
  
They all had been cooking and cleaning, shopping and wrapping gifts for days in advance, stopped at the bakery, the state liquor store and the butcher shop, made pumpkin, apple and chocolate bourbon pecan pies; Ennis' sister Clare had made a rustic pear tart drizzled with apricot brandy to be served with vanilla ice cream, along with bringing some much appreciated extra dishware and serving platters, made the dough for herbed cloverleaf rolls and put it in the refrigerator, to be baked at the last minute.   Jack's mother made his favorite cherry cake.  It was Jack who had come up with the idea that they should make Christmas dinner, wanted a chance to do something nice for Ennis’ family, who had been so good to him.  
  
Grace felt somewhat at a loss, for the kitchen was usually her domain, but not for long, because Ennis and Jack banished her from it, told her she was to be a lady of leisure for a couple of days, that surely she must have some shoppin’ to do, or somethin’, and she appreciated it.   K.E. and Carleen, Clare and her husband and the kids, his Mom and Dad and Uncle Harold, Kathryn from over at the Game and Fish, Grace, Tom and his sons, ranch neighbors.  Jack’s father’s attitude had softened over the years, and Ada was so very proud of her very capable and beautiful son, and she adored Ennis, always had, and John had come around to him too.  
  
It was a very early morning for them on Christmas day, up at the crack of dawn to get everything started, and they found out for themselves that the old stove could still kick some butt once they fired 'er up when it came to cooking a large holiday meal, as it had for many Thangksgivings, Christmases and Easters before.   They put out one of Grace’s best quilted holiday table cloths, the one with the golden threads in it, napkins and place mats, washed Grace’s good wedding china and crystal glassware and polished up the silver, and they had decorated the house with evergreen boughs and lights, and the Christmas tree. They set up the kids' table and buffet table with a holiday centerpiece, set out chocolates, and soft pillows of striped mints in candy dishes, buttery shortbreads and cookies that they had made with the children, the shapeless reindeer and lopsided trees and wreaths, from the dough not cold enough or handled too much and spreading in the oven, but that had turned out looking just fine once they were decorated.  
  
They vaguely wondered if they had forgotten anything or had enough food, but almost didn’t have time to worry about it, and by this time tomorrow, it wouldn’t matter anyway, whatever wasn’t done or they didn’t have. Neighbors and friends arrived throughout the afternoon, either bringing food or taking some home with them, the leftovers were wrapped and sent on their way with guests, or saved in the refrigerator to be recreated into another delicious meal, like turkey sandwiches with cranberry mayonnaise to take to work and put in school lunchboxes.   The guests had included Alma and Monroe, who had dropped by for dessert and coffee and to pick up Junior, had dropped her off after church; Alma looking happy and glowing in her fifth month of pregnancy, just some sparkling cider please.  
  
Ennis and Jack cleaned up the kitchen afterwards, loaded the dishwasher and washed by hand the delicate glassware. Grace finally shooed an exhausted and grateful Jack and Ennis out of the kitchen, and they were too tired to argue, as she finished cleaning up.   Her husband Frank had been a bull in a china shop in the kitchen, rough with her fine dishes and glasses, usin' three pans when one would do; but the boys weren't too bad.   She'd learned to appreciate his help.  How she missed him.  
  
Ennis got himself another slice of pie to have with some coffee in the living room, after he and Jack saw Jack's folks out to their car; they were staying at the motel in town and would head back to Lightnin' Flat early in the morning.   Jack and Bobby would be heading out first thing in the morning too.  
  
They stoked the fire in the fireplace; sat down on the couch and relaxed, tired and happy.  
 

* * *

Poor Jack had gotten run down and caught himself a cold or the flu.  Ennis fussed over him; turned on the small portable television set, got him an extra blanket, propped him up with some pillows, made him a big mug of hot tea, to which he added a squeeze of lemon juice, a tablespoon or so of honey, and an ounce and a half of Irish whiskey, stirred it up real good, and brought it upstairs to Jack, a nurturer in his own gruff way.  
  
"Uhhhh, I feel like a whipped dog."  he told Ennis, snuffling into a tissue.   He moved to get up; he had work to do.   Jack made his way down the hall to use the bathroom, splashed some water on his face and brushed his teeth, and when he got back in bed, fell back against the pillows in exhaustion, sapped of energy.  
  
"Me 'n' K.E.'ll take care of things, Jack."   Ennis told him.    "You just get some rest."  
  
"Here's the cure for what ails ya." he assured Jack with a wink as he handed him the mug of tea, and it was – relief from the common cold, aches and pains, stress, angst, and boredom, just to name a few things.  
  
"Thanks."

Jack managed a stuffy-sounding laugh before he lapsed into another coughin' fit.   He was chilled; the tea and whiskey warmed him, and after a few sips, he started to doze off.   Ennis touched Jack’s forehead, switched off the television, before he went downstairs.    He was burnin' up.  
  
Ennis went back downstairs and grabbed his coat.

"Hey Ma, will ya look in on Jack ever’ once in awhile." he hollered on his way out the door, to join K.E. to get started on the busy day's ranchwork.

"Don’t you worry."  Grace had called after him.  
  
When Ennis returned, Jack's fever had broken, and he was feeling a little better.

   
Christmas Present, Christmas Future

They tucked into a big breakfast with gusto at Dee's, plates of rancher's-style eggs and rice, ordered some extra homemade flour tortillas, freshly-made and warm, dipping them into the salsa and mopping up the egg yolks as they ate. They sat by the window, looking out at the town all decorated for the holidays, savoring their hot coffees.  
  
Some of the regulars were there, sippin’ coffee and talkin’ politics as usual, and they overheard bits and pieces of conversation in the busy diner.

 _". . . what's the use a makin' it . . . if the taxes don’t git it, the inflation’ll eat it all up."_ they overheard one man say, complainin' about the state of the economy.

Jack mentioned how nice everything looked at the diner, all done up for Christmas, all the homes decorated and the lights on Main Street.  
  
"Looks good, don't it?"

"Just hope we don’t get a blackout, with all them lights." Ennis said, his dry humor making Jack laugh, as always.  
  
It was Ennis' job, and emergencies and late nights came with the territory, but he surely didn't relish the thought a bein' drug out of bed in the wee hours of Christmas mornin' to help repair a transformer in a power outage.  
  
"I thought we could take the kids Christmas shoppin' in the City."   Jack said.    Ennis agreed.  
  
Just then, a man came running into the diner and in alarm asked:  
  
"Anyone in here own that blue flatbed truck out back?  There's smoke comin' out the engine compartment!"  
  
"Awww, now what."  Ennis had muttered, cursing under his breath.  
  
"The hell."  Jack said aloud.  
  
Ennis' old truck had many, many miles on it; and had been overhauled many times -  tires, brakes, exhaust system and muffler, spark plugs, transmission, new cargo deck.   Sure, he was attached to the old thing, but also a lot of money was tied up in equipment for the ranch.   When they got out to the parkin' lot, sure enough, the damn thing was on fire.  
  
"Ho-ly hell."  Jack said.  
  
After the fire department was called and the fire put out, it was determined that the cause of the fire was an electrical short, and the insurance company declared it totaled, paying Ennis $2,000, which was more than he thought he'd get.   Lucky that the wind was blowin' in the opposite direction, or they would've lost the load of hay in the truck bed; and some of it still might be useless.  
  
Ennis bought the truck back from the insurance company for $200, as is.   Workin' with a local Ford dealer, he found a used pickup, half robin's egg blue.   He had a garage remove the new cargo bed from the burned-out truck and had it installed on the new truck, salvaged what he could.  
  
Ennis had wanted to go Christmas shopping with them, but at the last minute somethin' came up at the ranch, so Jack did the honors.   They went shopping for a gift for Ennis, and where Junior was becoming interested in dance, Jack took Junior and Bobby to a matinee performance of  The Nutcracker by the City Ballet, transporting them all to a magical holiday world for awhile.

* * *

The next challenge for Ennis and Jack was meetin’ Ennis’ co-workers and boss at the utility company where Ennis worked, Jack already having met Callie, at the company’s annual Christmas party.

The party was scheduled for Friday evening at seven pm.  Ennis had ticked off the box next to "Will Attend with Guest" on the invitation, and their choice of entree. They parked the car in the lot across the street from the Elk Ridge Inn where the event was being held and walked across the street, stopped and looked at each other for reassurance, steeling themselves before opening the door. The air was cold, but made them feel alive. This thing between ‘em that was always so strong, now made them even stronger together.  
  
Ennis unconsciously fiddled with his necktie.   Jack smiled; he knew it took some doin' to get Ennis to dress up in a coat and tie, and he looked great.

"Ready?" Jack had asked.  Ennis looked at him.  He noticed that Jack was just starting to get a silver thread or two in his dark hair.  Time was making him even more handsome, it couldn’t touch him.

"Yep.  Last one in." Ennis said quietly and determinedly, squeezed Jack’s hand for a minute, and they crossed the threshhold, the sound of the cold wind replaced by the music, laughter and the din of a party going on on the other side of the door.  
  
"Merry Christmas."  Ennis whispered.  
  
"Merry Christmas to you."  Jack said.

Ennis took a deep breath, and they looked at each other one more time, and then they entered the party, said a hello to Ennis’ work friends and boss, introduced Jack; a holiday kiss for Callie, and they had a few drinks and sat down to a great meal, and not a raised eyebrow or question in the bunch; well, maybe a couple, but nobody else really cared.

Callie had finally figured out why she couldn’t seem to hold Ennis’ attention in the way she would have liked to, but she was so very fond of him, so fond that it only made her happier when she saw him with Jack and how happy and right they were together, and she had become a dear friend to both of them.   Ennis’ boss thought he was the salt of the earth.

Ennis went to the bar and ordered them each a drink; and for dinner there was prime rib, maple-glazed ham with sweet potatoes, and roast turkey with all the trimmings.

There was a roaring fire at the far end of the the dining room, dancing and a live band; but Ennis and Jack were happy just to be there together, to enjoy and be a part of all the warm holiday conviviality.

Ennis and Jack were a part of the community now; they had joined the volunteer fire department and helped out when they had the big wildfires up in the Uintas during the dry spell of the previous summer, a place where they camped, hunted, and fished, a place they loved; and people enjoyed Jack’s open friendliness, and Ennis’ more slow-to-warm-up, but loyal friendship. 

* * *

Ennis and Jack attended cooperative extension training in ranch and livestock management, and the latest agricultural developments, offered by the University and the Farm Bureau, and held at the nearby Ramada Inn.   They also were taking classes in agriculture/farm and ranch management, Jack with the help of the GI Bill; Jack concentrating on the business side of things; Ennis on ranch operations.   Jack had also decided to stick with it and became a volunteer fire fighter for Lincoln County,  where Bobby and Junior went to school, putting to good use his former military training.    Their small, rural town didn't have the tax base to support a full-time fire department, so Jack was happy to give some of his time when he could.  
  
Both he and Ennis were active with the kids’ school and activities, holiday pageants, Bobby’s Little League and music lessons, Junior’s dance lessons and girls’ basketball team practices, responsibilities Ennis shared with Alma and Monroe.   Junior had inherited her Daddy's lanky frame and played on the Mountain View Middle School team.   She was willowy, her Gramma said.  The girls could take Shop and the boys could take Home Economics now, who'd have thought.   Jack was there for Bobby’s needing extra tutoring in English in his early years, and Junior had helped him too.  
  
It was true; the more people got to know ya, the less they cared about what ya did in yer bedroom.  Well, maybe the fire ‘n brimstone crowd would always have somethin’ ta say about it, but it didn’t make ‘em right, and it didn’t make ‘em the foremost authority from God neither, to Ennis’ and Jack’s minds.  Earl and Rich, while never to be forgotten, and what had happened to them never should be forgotten, could be laid to peaceful rest in Ennis’ mind.  
  
And while he didn't know if he was ready to kiss Jack in the middle of Main Street just yet, as much as he'd want to, he knew he'd come a long way.  It wasn’t like it was in his Daddy’s day, now.   For every judgemental busybody or violent bigot, there were as many others who were supportive, or at least them that would just live and let live, and they had their families and friends.   Who knew what the future would bring, only God, and ya couldn't let the naysayers like that win, let the what-if's stop ya from livin' yer life like ya wanted to, and that everyone was entitled to, God-given.  
  
Intermountain Gas & Electric's company bonus checks were given to the employees Christmas week.

* * *

Junior tossed a crumpled note to Bobby as the bell rang signaling the end of English class, just barely missed hitting him.   He opened it to read:  
  
_Bobby,_

_Let’s skip study hall and go down to the river._

_A_

Junior pulled out a cigarette from the pack she’d nicked from her father, lit it up.

"Don’t, Jun, Daddy says them things’ll kill ya."   Bobby said.  His father Jack had been tryin’ ta get his daddy Ennis ta quit for the longest time, with only modest success.

" _Those_ things’ll kill ya." Junior corrected him.

"Don’t ya think I look cool?" she asked him, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes as she slowly blew the out the smoke, and then burst into peals of laughter.

Bobby laughed too, he thought Junior was the coolest girl in school, regardless of whether she smoked or not, and he told her so.   He and Junior were great friends.

"I guess you’re right, I prob’ly shouldn’t be smokin'." Junior said, as she stubbed out the cigarette on a rock.

"Anyways, Daddy ‘r Momma ‘r Monroe’ll smell it in my hair and I’ll get in trouble with somebody."   she sighed, pulling out her hairbrush from her purse, brushing her hair and trying to air the smell of cigarette smoke out of it.   She was at the age where, if she couldn't have cared less about how her hair looked before, now she was constantly brushing and combing or styling it.

Bobby thought she had the prettiest hair he thought he’d ever seen.  She’d never treated him like he was different, looked different, talked different, like some did in the beginning, but things were better now.

"C’mon, we better get back." he said, touching her on the shoulder, and they walked back to school.

* * *

When Junior came through the front door after school, Ennis and Jack were waiting for her.

"Give ‘em here." Ennis said, holding out his hand.

"Busted." Jack said.

Junior rolled her eyes and looked down at the floor.  Bobby snickered at her and she looked up and glared at him, under the stern gazes of their fathers.


	15. Can't Stop A River

Green River, Labyrinth and Stillwater Canyons/Moab, UT/October, 1977 

Just before dawn, taking a deep breath, Ennis put in the canoe at the river, by himself, out in the quiet, nothing but the sound of the water birds and the rustle of the leaves as he passed overhanging trees and brush, and the paddle gliding through silty and murky green water, first rays of sun penetrating through the mist between river and sky.  He liked this time of morning, to find that place.  
  
No other company but a blue heron wading at the shore, as Jack slept back at camp. They’d taken a few days off, after the roundup and after the papers were signed for their partnership/trust agreement for a last fishin’ trip before winter, like a honeymoon period, and probably the last free time they'd have for awhile, once work started up again.  
  
Ennis took some time alone to think; he’d had been workin’ long hours, and taking a more visible role in the business than he’d ever thought he would have, after his mother died.    His mother had always managed things with firm but gentle reins.  
  
There was so much to be concerned with; what if the business failed, with the unpredictibility of weather and ranching, what if they encountered financial difficulties, what if they went under, lost everything?  Jack could lose his investment.  In the end, they decided that they'd rather take the chance and try, than not and always wonder what might have been.  
  
Ennis was just going to sit out here for a spell, enjoy the peace and quiet, get away from all the noise in his head, and Jack was used to Ennis' occasional silences and the times he needed to be alone, now.   But today, he noticed that in the place where he usually found peace and solace, he only found emptiness.

It was a relatively safe, Class I section of the Green River, and no whitewater more ‘n Class II. He’d done this route before, was an experienced canoeist, and they’d even taken the kids here, out on this mild stretch of river, one time. He smiled as he thought of little Junior and Bobby, in their orange life jackets, and their exuberant shouts as they learned how to paddle a canoe during that family fishin’ trip. Now, Junior was back at her mother’s; Bobby was staying with friends, Jack pleased that he seemed to be adjusting well to his new home, albeit not without a few hitches in the road, but that was to be expected, and then it was back to school for the both of 'em.   October was a good time, not as hot, and the river ran low.

" _Let's see . . . Desolation Canyon, Upheaval Dome, Disaster Falls, Hell's Half Mile, Dead Horse Point, Last Chance, Point a' No Return . . . Cripes, sounds like the story a my life, don't it,_ Jack had joked as they planned their route, looking at the points of interest on the map of the river and canyons of southeastern Utah.

 _Mine too, truth be known_.  Ennis chuckled to himself, thinking of Jack's offbeat sense of humor. The Green started in Wyoming in the Wind Rivers mountain range, then to Utah where her tailwaters were renowned for their trout fishin’, and ended up in Western Colorado.  They decided to go the roughly 120-mile trip down Labyrinth and Stillwater Canyons, through Canyonlands and Arches National Park, to the confluence of the Green and Colorado Rivers.

They’d have a chance to meander through the canyons on this section of the Green River’s serpentine, flat waters, and relax after a busy time at the ranch.  Even though he had Jack now, and the kids, the loss of both his parents made him feel a special kind of loneliness, and Jack knew what that was like too. Jack had been surprised how much the loss of his father had affected him, but he had been able to mend fences, and make his peace.

It was after Thanksgiving, they’d had a grand celebration, even Jack’s folks were able to come, everyone brought something to eat, and after returning from a weekend visit to his sister’s, she and Tom had taken an icy skid in the car on a mountain switchback turn, missin' a downshift, losin' traction and control of the car. She’d never recovered, and as she passed away, Ennis had buried his face in his hands, Jack had squeezed his shoulder, and kissed his mother’s hand as she drifted away, peacefully and naturally, with all of her family around her assuring her safe passage to the other side.   Ennis was unsure where to turn, it was too soon; but then, it always is.  Jack had stepped up, was there for him as he settled his mother’s estate, with all of its attendant debt and challenges, and tried to do all of the things that grief made so difficult, and stood right beside him all through the wake and funeral, and Jack had been like a son to her anyway.  
  
Ennis remembered that he had stared up at the clock ticking on the wall; when he looked up again after what seemed to be minutes later, its hands seemed not to have moved, just the sound, regular and unceasing, of seconds ticking by, and Jack's presence beside him.

She left the ranch to her three children.    Eventually, Ennis' brother K.E. and sister Clare Del Mar Allen sold their shares of the ranch to Ennis; his brother's and sister's lives having taken a different direction, and the carrying on the family legacy falling to Ennis' capable shoulders, as his mother had always known it would.   And that was fine; each of her children finding and following their own path in life.  
  
Ennis had been best man at K.E.'s and Carleen's weddin', and Jack had been a groomsman and usher, when his mother was still here.  She had lived to see all of her children partnered and happy.

 

* * *

 

And just as quickly, the weather changed. A stiff wind off the bow turned the canoe sharply off course, heading toward the sandy bank; Ennis overcorrected, and the canoe tipped. Ennis fell into the water, the cobble of river stones and coarse sand unstable and shifting under his feet, leaving him unable to get a firm footing; and as he tried to call out, but only gulped water, he slipped below the surface, a glancing blow to the side of his head against the rocks below.

Jack had gotten up, noticed Ennis wasn't there.  _Prob'ly answerin’ the call a' nature_ , he’d guessed.  Then he'd seen that the canoe was gone.  Ennis sometimes liked to go off by himself, and Jack figured he needed to get his thoughts together or somethin’.  He looked up and saw Ennis in the green two-man canoe, at a distance.  
  
He hit the play button of the cassette player and the air filled with the guitar pickin' and mandolin of Led Zeppelin’s _Goin’ To California_ , and Jack hummed along as he set about making the coffee and starting breakfast on the camp stove, wishin' he had learned how to play the guitar.  _Or the drums; Bonzo was just about the best there was_.  The cassette player was an unnecessary extravagance because of the extra weight to carry, but one he couldn't be without.   He was just about to buckle on his wristwatch, quietly singing along.

_Hmmm . . . the sea was red and the sky was grey . . . I wondered how tomorrah . . . could ev-er follow todaaaay . . .hey._

_The mountains and the canyons start to tremble and shake. . . as the children of the sun begin . . . to wake . . . watch out . . . hmmm, hmmmm._  
  
Only moments later he remembered thinking, _somethin' ain't right_.  He looked again, realized the canoe had capsized.  
  
_Seems that the wrath of the Gods, got a punch on the nose  . . . and it started to flow . . .I think I might be sinkin' . . ._

"Eniiiiis!" he yelled, dropping everything and swimming out to him.

_Throw me a line . . . if I reach it in time . . . I’ll meet you up there where the path runs straight and high . . ._

Ennis hadn’t lost consciousness, but was disoriented.  Jack fished him out, grabbed onto him and held onto him, Ennis heard his voice sayin' _I got ya_ , and pulling him ashore, Ennis leaning on him as they made their way back to the campsite. The cassette player continued on, until the last song on the tape, grinding out the muddy blues of _When The Levee_ _Breaks;_ until it played itself out and finally came to a stop.

"Gotta get you outta these wet clothes." Jack said, grabbing a towel, a blanket and the first aid kit. He helped Ennis out of his wet clothes, gave him the towel, and wrapped a shivering Ennis in the blanket.  He took his bandana, dropped it into the pot of hot water over the fire, trying not to scald his fingers as he gingerly took it from the water and shook out the excess, wiping the blood from the scrapes on Ennis’ right temple.  They weren’t deep; wouldn’t require a bandage.

"Ennis, ya almost scared the shit outta me." Jack said, his voice cracking and his breath comin’ in short gasps.  
  
"I know your world’s been turned upside down, mine was too, but what in the hell were ya thinkin’.  Takin’ a chance like that, Ennis."   He took Ennis’ face in both his hands, searching his eyes for signs of concussion.   Everything looked okay.

"I’m all right, relax, Jack."  Ennis coughed, moving away in annoyance, and not a little embarrassment with himself.  A man didn't lose control; of boats nor emotions.  Didn't need no help.  Jack never did give any thought to such things.

"I woulda been all right, woulda gotten back on my feet."

"Didn't look like it ta me."  Jack said firmly, standin' by his guns.

"It’s only somethin’ I’ve done a hunnerd ‘n’ one times.  Ain’t like I don’t know what I’m doin’."

"Yeah, well what about that hunnerd 'n' second time, huh?" Jack said, becoming cross with him.  "Nuthin' wrong with askin' for help once in awhile, if ya need it."

"Back off me, Jack. I said I was all right." Ennis insisted angrily.

"Well this vacation is gettin’ off to a fuckin’ great start, ain’t it?" he added sarcastically. "Jack Fuckin’ Twist, goddamn know-it-all.  You ain't in the Army anymore, Jack, so quit givin' orders and actin' like some kinda goddamn general."  He spat out the words.

 _Now that was hittin' below the belt_ , he knew.  He usually admired Jack's take-charge attitude, but Ennis was in no mood for it today.   Like a goddamn force a' nature, Jack was at times.

"That’s right, lash out at me when I’m only tryin’ ta help ya." Jack yelled right back at him.

Ennis turned and walked away angrily, toward the river’s edge, but Jack followed him.  Tears burned in his eyes, but wouldn't fall, so much that he couldn't express that he stumbled.  He tried to push Jack away, anything to get rid of this awful feelin', but then grasped him tightly, holdin' on for dear life, and Jack held on and bore him up.  
  
_Don't know if I can do this, Jack.   Don't even know if I can tell ya._

"I'm sorry Jack." he finally managed.  
  
"It's all right." Jack whispered. "It's all right."

"Just as long as you're all right, that’s all that matters.  Maybe we should go home - you in any pain?  Dizzy?"

"No, I'm fine now."

"I’m still keepin’ an eye on ya, just the same.  If ya start ta feel sick or if I notice anythin’ that ain’t right, we’re headin’ home an’ have ya checked out.  An’ I don’t want no lip about it neither.  We're out in the middle a' nowhere here."

"Yes, sir." Ennis said, and laughed, suddenly finding the entire scene funny, for some unknown reason.

Jack laughed too, as he finally relaxed.  Ennis hadn't realized at the time that how much the incident must have frightened Jack, after what he'd been through, and that maybe it brought back to him a painful memory or two.  And that maybe Jack's intensity was his way of dealing with fears of his own, the vigilance and hair-trigger sense of a watchman always on his guard.  Not that it was always a bad thing, especially with what had happened today.  Ennis could relate as far as tryin' to making ends meet was concerned; but Jack's had been of more immediate type of survival.

"Don’t you ever do that ta me again, ya dumb shit." Jack kissed him, and held him in his arms for a few moments.  They sat down on the beach, Jack cross-legged, and cradling Ennis’ head in his lap.

Jack rifled through the first-aid kit, pushing aside the tubes of mosquito repellent and sunblock, until he found the antiseptic, tore one open and dabbed Ennis’ scrapes with it.

Ennis flinched.

"Now that don’t hurt, ya big baby."

"So are ya sayin' I need ta ease up a little?" Jack asked, and Ennis just gave him a look, and they both laughed again.  
  
"I miss her too, y'know."  he said.

 

* * *

 

Jack had been about to start the coffee; he did so, and Ennis was grateful for a good hot cup of it, and then Jack went to retrieve the canoe, his dropped watch forgotten.  The canoe had lodged itself between some rocks farther downriver.  Jack righted it, retrieved the paddle, and hauled it up onto the beach, turning it over so it could dry out.

Jack spread Ennis’ wet clothes on the rocks to dry, changed into some dry clothes himself.

Jack’s fancy sports watch had been lost.

"I’m sorry, Jack." Ennis said again.

But Ennis meant more to Jack than anything material.

"I don't care about that, Ennis."  he said.  "It can be replaced."

"Hey, Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. "

Ennis nearly spent his last dime gettin' Jack a replacement watch, an even better one, for his birthday that year, a week before Christmas, a gold and stainless steel Omega Constellation, with the emblem of an observatory and eight stars in the night sky on the backcase.  And in one of his rare displays of sentiment, an uncommon thing valued all the more for its rarity, Ennis enclosed with it a note, which meant more to Jack than the gift:

_To Jack,_

_My partner, my friend, my companion and guide -_  
  
                              Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas -  
  
                                                                                 Ennis  
  
"Here."  he'd mumbled, handing Jack his present.  "Got ya somethin'."

Ennis, while never one for expressing his innermost feelings out loud, was becoming quite comfortable, even adept, at expressing them through the written word.

 

* * *

 

They both had another cup of coffee, and Jack finished making breakfast.  
  
"We’ll give it another try in the mornin’." Ennis said.

Next morning, Jack looked up and smiled at him encouragingly, as Ennis came out of the tent, coffee and breakfast already started.  Ennis poured himself a cup; then looked up at the cloudless sky overhead.

"Looks like it’s gonna be a good day, today." he said, and began to load the canoe with their water supply and gear, and they embarked.

Ennis sat in the bow, and Jack, aft; and they paddled in tandem and easy cadence down the river, winding their way through Labyrinth Canyon to Stillwater Canyon, through ancient Native American ruins and rock paintings, outlaw hideouts, buttes and mesas, fantastical sandstone and red rock formations shaped by the wind and the river in every shade of ochre, saffron, terra cotta, coral, salmon, pink and rust, here and there restful to the eye moss greens, monoliths towering above them, something beautiful revealed to them around every turn, and they maneuvered around the rocks and obstacles, eddies and strong currents, and other dangers that would arise, both expected and not, as a team, and they would take the canoe out and portage over the rough areas.  There was no turning back now anyway.  The occasional heat lightning from a distant thunderstorm would silently flash across the sky during the hot evenings and nights, and if the desert heat became too much during the day, they'd cool off in the cold river water.  When it rained, the waters turned the colors of sandstone.  At dusk, the evening star Hesperus shone like a welcoming light from home in the cobalt sky.

"Things're gonna be good for us, Ennis, you just wait and see." Jack said, and then, "Ennis, look."

Jack pointed to a bald eagle up in a cottonwood tree. The bird's stern gaze followed them downstream, but it wasn't them he was interested in; and they watched him dive to seize a brick red Kokanee salmon from the water in his talons, who fought like the devil, but to no avail, huge fingered wings carrying the fish away.  Jack pulled his boonie hat down over his sunglasses, leaned back in the canoe to rest for a bit.

"You're doin' a great job, keep it up'." he said, and all Ennis could see when he glanced back over his shoulder for a moment was Jack's mischievous grin beneath the hat's brim, and Ennis just shook his head and snorted in friendly indignation, but smiled inwardly.   He'd do to ride the river with.  
  
"Smart ass."  he said.  
  
They reached their destination; taking out the canoe at a side stream called Calf Creek, and started in to a productive afternoon of fishing, and then a short hike up to the falls, to rest where the air was damp and cool, in this desert oasis.

 

* * *

 

The trip had been refreshing, lots of good fishin', swimming in the confluence of the Green and Colorado rivers.  They took the jet boat back to Moab, in the wind and spray.

They stayed overnight in Moab, checked in to their motel, just a couple of guys sharing a room, the front desk clerk barely paying attention except to hand them their keys and give them directions to their room, a pleasant small talk suggestion or two of places they might go for dinner, but they decided to go to the nearby Basque restaurant that they'd been to the last couple times they came here.  
  
It made Jack think with pride of the time he had to go to Denver on business, and asked Ennis to accompany him.  He had convinced Ennis then to go to his first gay bar, and Ennis had surprised him; he had enjoyed his new-found freedom so much, he'd wanted to make out with Jack all night long, while Jack had tried to listen to the band, and it had made Jack so happy.  Jack had wanted to share all of these things with Ennis, for Ennis to know this feeling of freedom.  
  
"Wanna dance?"  Ennis had asked with a shy smile, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray.  
  
"Sure, Ennis".  Jack had answered.  
  
And they had danced together; he remembered the band had played a melancholy cover of a Don Gibson song, a sung by a woman as a beautiful, whiskey-voiced lament, with a tinny sounding bar room piano, that had taken on an entirely different, happier meaning for them, one full of promise.   A slow two-step in 4/4 time, Ennis leading.  Ennis felt natural, even bold; it had never felt like this with anyone else.  Jack closed his eyes and relaxed into Ennis' embrace and gentle sway of the rhythm; felt Ennis' lips on his cheek.  _Noone's gonna love ya like me._ Turning into a promenade and weaving around the dance floor; Jack then behind Ennis; Ennis still leading.  They turned to face each other again, and as they moved together and held each other close, able to kiss openly without fear or shame, the pedal steel guitar had sounded more like island breezes, the soft shimmer of the cymbals like the gentle ebb and flow of the surf, than a country and western bar in Denver.  
  
They danced to a more up-tempo song after that.

 

* * *

 

 _We look like a couple of river rats_ , Jack smiled as he ran his hand over his scruffy chin, looking at their reflections in the motel bathroom mirror.  Windblown, sun-soaked, muscles pleasantly sore, and tired, it was time to get back to civilization.

They cleaned up; sunny blond Ennis in an old white tee shirt, a small tear just beginning at the shoulder seam.  The album cover art of one of his favorite albums would have been colorfully displayed across the front of it, had it not been faded from many wearings and washings; his strong, tanned legs in frayed denim cutoffs, his feet in river sandals.  Jack knew it was one of his most favorite ones because had overheard Ennis humming or whistling the tunes many a time.    
   
Ennis took off his sunglasses and pulled off the bandana he'd tied around his head to keep the sweat out of his eyes as he began to undress for a shower.   Jack kicked off his sandals, pulled his sweaty tee shirt over his head, unzipped and stepped out of his cutoff fatigues to join him.  
  
Ennis changed into an oversized black polo shirt, collar up and buttons left undone, a piece of rawhide knotted loosely around his neck, and clean jeans, extra-long in the inseam for the long legs of his lanky 6'3" frame.   The skin on Ennis' nose had begun to peel a little bit from being out in the sun; Ennis' skin tended to burn and freckle first, then gradually tan.   Jack threw on a faded indigo chambray workshirt, sleeves rolled up, over a fresh white tee and chinos.  If anyone had paid them any mind at all, it would have only been a passing appreciation of what a fine lookin' pair they made.

But first, they stopped at a Utah state-run liquor store to pick up a couple of bottles of wine, a Rioja, to share at the communal family-style dinner, and some for later, since you couldn't get a drink in a restaurant in Utah back in those days.

 

* * *

 

A very mellow Jack was lookin' forward to cozyin' up to Ennis for some satisfyin' lovemaking. Slow and sweet kisses, and kissin' on Ennis' neck, limbs entwined, until Jack could feel Ennis' body begin to relax and dissolve into his.  They'd been able to do it out in the tent on the beach at the river, but it was nice to be at the room with a bed to stretch out on.  Ennis closed his eyes, and lay back in complete relaxation as Jack kissed and caressed him, touching Jack in return. 

They loaded up Jack's truck early the following morning for the drive back home, coffee and donuts from the motel for breakfast.  
  
A disco song came on the radio; Ennis looked pained.  
  
"C'mon, it ain't that bad." Jack laughed.

 

  
  _Benedictio: May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view.   May your mountains rise into and above the clouds._  
  
                                                                                                                                                         _\- Edward Abbey_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics from 'Going to California' by Led Zeppelin, 1971.


	16. R&R, Part I - Love Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack plans a meeting with Ennis in Hawaii for some R&R.

Ennis read Jack's most recent letter:  
  
_Hey Ennis,_

 _Got a crazy idea I wanted to ask you about. A friend over here got me to thinking about it. You know I’m due for some R &R.  Thought I’d put in for it and go to Hawaii.  What do you think about meeting me there?  _  
  
I’ll plan everythin’ out. Tell you everythin’ in a letter, call you once I get there. You can get a flight out of Salt Lake or Denver to Honolulu, it'll stop over in San Francisco or Los Angeles.  
  
It’ll be great – trust me.  Say you'll at least think about it.  Write and let me know,  
  
Jack  
  
  
_Hawaii?_   Ennis thought, in disbelief.  _Aww hell . . . Jack, with another one of his damn fool ideas_.   If only he could jump on a plane and be with Jack.   He added this one to the box of letters, postcards and photographs from Jack that he kept in the closet; he saved all of them.   And once Jack found out about Alma and his child, well, that'd put an end to any fanciful ideas of running off to Pacific islands, Ennis was sure.   
  
But, a postcard came back addressed to Jack.  It was from Ennis, and on it were written just two words - _You Bet_.

* * *

   
Jack received his orders for R&R, and was flown to Da Nang, where he turned in his weapons and his jungle fatigues, having changed into khakis.  He converted his MPCs and piastres to U.S. dollars.  The next day, he boarded the "freedom bird", as the charter flights were called, that would take him to his destination.  The plane stopped at Andersen AFB in Guam for refueling, B-52's visible from the windows.   
  
With an hour to kill, Jack stopped at the PX and bought a bottle of Jim Beam and a carton of cigarettes to take with him.   
  
Honolulu, Hawaii -  August 1967  
  
Once he arrived in Honolulu, he was bussed to the R&R Center, where he checked in and sat through the required lecture of Army rules for being on leave.  Then he was on his own.  He could have stayed at the R&R center for next to nothin', but he chose to stay in a hotel.   On a lark, Jack bought himself a Hawaiian shirt in the hotel gift shop after he'd checked in.  Nothin' too loud, nothin' that would send Ennis into a tailspin thinkin' somebody'd notice 'em.   He knew Ennis would be skittish enough as it was.  He stopped at a drug store to pick up a few other things.  
  
He stood out on the lanai of his hotel room, leaning onto the railing, looking out at Waikiki Beach.  There was a snafu with the reservation at the hotel, The Ka'iulani, and he had been upgraded to a deluxe double room overlooking the beach, no extra charge.  He was glad that he had arrived a day early; he needed that time to adjust to being in the world again.   He closed his eyes and let the warm evening breeze wash over him, breathing in its musky perfume of tropical flowers.  _Plumeria_.  It made him miss the wildflowers of the alpine meadows up in the high Rockies; just as beautiful a place as any on Earth, to him.   
  
Floral leis and kisses had welcomed the G.I.s to the island when they'd arrived.  His was hanging over the dresser mirror in the room now, a couple of travel brochures he'd picked up at the R &R center were tossed on the writing desk.   Such a beautiful and tranquil place, in such contrast to where he'd been.  He could feel the tension gradually leaving his body, the furrow between his brows relax; tension he hadn't even been fully aware of.  It was so quiet, just the rhythmic, restful sound of the waves crashing on the beach below, and the occasional car horn and sounds of traffic, the activity in the city.  No sounds of rockets coming off the launcher, or sniper fire.  No smell of rifle cleaner and burnin' gun powder, no tracers lightin' up the sky.   He would remember these things, and the sounds of the choppers, for as long as he lived.  He needed to rest; he hadn't had a decent night's sleep in he didn't know how long.

Jack had long since made death's acquaintance and made his peace with it.  It was always hovering around, deciding who to take next.  He had been death's messenger himself a time or two.  Couldn't think about it too much, couldn't even cry about it when it did take one of 'em, a sense of being detached the only way he could cope, keeping a part of himself that nothing could reach.  Sometimes he pushed everything so far down inside himself he thought sure he would explode, like one of them Claymore mines, not knowing where the tripwire was.  He was wound tighter than a spring.  But for now, these thoughts were easing away from his consciousness.  A shower, sleeping in a real bed, clean sheets, a good meal, and most of all, seeing Ennis, would go a long way towards putting things right.   
  
He thought of himself as a boy and smiled, when he'd look out his bedroom window in Lightnin' Flat, the view barren and desolate.  There had to be more out there for him, he'd thought.   He used to imagine the places he might travel to one day, and in geography class, he'd sometimes spin the globe on the teacher's desk around on its axis like some kind of great cosmic roulette wheel, just to see just where it would stop.   Hard to believe it had turned out to be Southeast Asia and the Pacific.  He'd wanted nothing more than to get away from Wyoming then; now, all he wanted was to settle down right back there, once he was done with the war.  He hoped it wouldn't be in a flag-draped box.  
  
He wondered if things would be the same as they were before with him and Ennis, that easiness they always had together.  He decided he'd better call Ennis at the ranch, just to make sure everything was still on.   _Fools rush in, where angels fear to tread,_ he thought and smiled, picking up the phone.  
  
He dialed the hotel operator, asking to call the mainland.   He prayed he'd be able to get a free line with so many soldiers on leave probably doin' the same thing, calling their loved ones too.   He heard the long-distance operator's voice come on the line, and gave her the number of the ranch in Wyoming.   He  waited nervously as the operator completed the call.

"H'lo?" Ennis' voice came on the line.

"Long distance call, person-to-person for Mr. Ennis Del Mar, are you Mr. Del Mar?" asked the operator.  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
"Go ahead please." said the operator.   
  
"H'lo?" Ennis said again.  
  
"Ennis." That’s all Jack could say at first.  It was so good to hear his voice again.

"Jack? That you?"  
  
Ennis was glad to hear his voice too, Jack could hear it in his voice, and he grinned from ear to ear.  
  
"Yeah, it's me, I'm here, at the hotel, in Honolulu.  Just wanted to make sure you're still comin', you haven't changed your mind, have ya?"  Jack asked,  hope in his voice.  
  
"No, I'm still comin', already got the tickets.  But I don't know about this damn fool idea of yours.  What am I gonna tell everyone?"  
  
"I dunno, tell 'em yer goin' fishin' or somethin'.  Do I have to think of ever'thin'?"  Jack said, laughing.  
  
"I shouldn't be pickin' up and leavin' like this, what if somethin' goes wrong while I'm gone?  The Army ain’t keepin’ you busy enough that you got nothin’ but time to think up more a your crazy-assed shit?  Hell, you know the only travelin’ I ever done was around a coffeepot, lookin’ for the handle!"  
  
Jack burst out laughing.  Ennis had more down-home sayings, and it was very comforting to think of home.   
  
"Ennis, that's not true, I know you can do it."  Jack insisted.  "Surely the place can survive your being gone for a couple a weeks.  For once in your goddamned life, do somethin' crazy, will ya?  Just for the hell of it.  It'll be great, you'll see."   And he would never wonder what might have been.  
  
"I did somethin’ crazy the day I took up with you, Twist, must've been a goddamn fool. And this is the last crazy idea I’m lettin’ ya talk me into!" Ennis was laughing now too.  "What if someone finds out, or sees ya?"

Turning serious, Jack said. "I don’t care, Ennis.  Just want to see you."  
  
Silence on the other end; Jack expected that and smiled to himself.    
  
"Ennis, I gotta go now, this call is costin' me a fortune, beaucoup dollars, but I’ll pick you up at the airport tomorrow."    
  
"What?"  Ennis asked.  
  
"Nevermind, I'll explain it all when I see you."  Jack said.  He confirmed Ennis' flight number and arrival time.   
  
"Bye, Jack."  Ennis hung up the phone. Just what the hell had he let Jack talk him into this time.  Ennis had to admit there was a part of him that didn’t care, either.   It was exciting.  
  
Jack hung up the phone, dizzy with happiness.   He took a long hot shower and washed the day away; the hot water felt good on his tense muscles, relaxing him.  After toweling off, he crawled naked between fresh sheets and tried to get some sleep.  Hell, even if Ennis didn't show, it'd still be worth it, coming here.   
  
Sage, Wyoming - August 1967

Ennis had grumbled anxiously all morning.  The trip had been more expensive than he had planned.  And he didn't like the idea of stopping in any other places, hanging around waiting for flights in strange airports, he was nervous enough already.  Told everyone he was meeting a buddy to go fishing in the mountains, and kissed Alma, Jr. goodbye.   Alma started in complainin' about his being away for so long, and what if someone needed to reach him for something.   He was stopped by a pang of guilt, but only for a moment; and he gave Alma a chaste kiss on her cheek and assured her the time would go by like lightnin', and told his girls that he'd see 'em real soon.   
  
He took off his wedding ring, placed it back in its box in his top dresser drawer.  Threw all his fishing gear in the truck, never to be used, or even to be looked at,  for over a week.  He drove to Salt Lake City and parked at the airport.  Ennis checked his luggage, and boarded Western Airlines flight 45, a Boeing 707,  which would continue on to Honolulu, Hawaii after stopping in San Francisco.  Didn't have much in the way of clothes to pack, but did the best he could.  Jack assured him it'd be fine, and that they'd buy some stuff once they got there.  Jack had said he didn't care what Ennis did or didn't have, he just wanted to see him.  
  
The stewardess showed him to his seat, his stomach a little queasy because he had never flown before, had never been too far out of Wyoming.   He was so nervous, he gulped down a couple of them drinks the stewardesses were handin' out, the ones with the orchid in 'em, mai tai's they were called.  May have looked silly but did the trick, whatever they called  'em.  Ennis fell asleep, went out like a light.  Didn't wake up until the stewardess gently roused him seven hours later, as they were preparing to land, motioning to the view from his window.  The pilot was announcing that you could see Diamond Head off to the right.  Ennis looked out to what he thought was probably one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen, after Brokeback.  The plane banked to turn sharp right and as it continued its descent, Ennis got a good look at the famous volcanic crater extending out into the Pacific from Waikiki Beach.   And to top it all off, he would be seeing Jack again soon, first time in four years.  He could hardly wait.

* * *

Jack decided to take a drive around the island in his rental car before picking up Ennis at the airport.  He was glad he had rented a convertible, a Mustang, as he drove through the island's lush, green hills and valleys, the Pacific Ocean never too far from view.   Just then he was caught in a brief tropical shower.  
  
"Aw, shit." he said, and as he pulled over to the side of the road to power up the top of the car, the sun came out again, its light passing through prism raindrops, creating spectrums of color.   _This must be heaven, bein' here on this island,_ Jack thought.   He imagined he must have already died, and just didn't know it yet, which in Jack's estimation must be the best way to go.   He smiled to himself as he drove to the airport to meet Ennis at his gate.

* * *

Ennis' eyes scanned the terminal once he arrived, searching for Jack.   His heart leapt when at last he spotted him, taking in how tan and fit he was, if a bit thinner than he had remembered.  Jack's thick, dark hair had been shaved off  in a military crewcut.   But Ennis would know Jack anywhere.   
  
"Well now, ain't you a sight for sore eyes." Ennis said.  "Jack, I can't believe it, ya look good."


	17. R&R, Part II - Fools Rush In

Jack's face lit up as he recognized Ennis.   "So do you Ennis, so do you." Jack said, admiring Ennis' lanky frame in his jeans, backpack slung over a strong shoulder, the worn cowboy boots, brown eyes smiling up from beneath a slightly fraying, stomped-lookin' old straw cowboy hat.   Ennis had a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose from working outdoors, and the same crinkles around his eyes he got when he smiled big, like he was doin' now.  Jack liked to imagine he was the only one who could make Ennis smile like that; that his smiles were only for him.  He'd missed Ennis so much, and now here he was.  
  
"What in the hell kinda shirt is that you got on."  Ennis said, and Jack laughed as they embraced mightily.  Jack let his arm linger around Ennis' shoulder a little longer than Ennis ordinarilly would have been comfortable with in public as they headed to get Ennis' bag.  But it was different here.  
  
"Now relax Cowboy, ain't nobody payin' us no mind with all this beautiful scenery around."  Jack said.   "How was your flight?"  
  
"Not bad, I guess.  Knocked back a couple drinks and slept through most of it."  Ennis joked.  "You were right, it is beautiful here, Jack.  You're always thinkin'."  
  
"Got nothin' but time to think over there, Ennis."  Jack said.  It made Ennis wince to hear him say that.  He hated Jack's bein' in Vietnam.  
  
Once they got back to the hotel, Ennis took Jack's face in his both his hands and said "I missed ya so much,  just lemme look at ya." and then kissed him so hard he slammed Jack back up against the wall.  Jack was left breathless, the wind knocked out of him, as much from the shock of Ennis' explosive display of emotion as the kiss itself.   Jack's hands shook; his legs felt like they'd give out from under him, and all he knew was that he wanted so much more.  
  
" _Sonofabitch_."  he finally managed to say when he found the voice to say it.  He hadn't expected it, but returned Ennis' kiss just as hard.   Nothing had changed between them.   


* * *

  
  
They kissed and nuzzled for several more minutes, hungry for each other.  Their tongues met, kissing, licking, tasting.  They began to undress each other, unbuttoning buttons, unzipping flys, tongues and hands eliciting moans of pleasure from them as they fell into bed.  Jack grabbed a towel and laid it across the bed, and turned over to lie on his stomach.   He reached over to the nightstand for the body oil he'd bought at the drugstore and handed the bottle to Ennis, who didn't need to be told twice what it was Jack wanted.   Ennis poured some of the oil into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it.  He started massaging it into Jack's back, working his way down, massaging and kneading the muscles of Jack's butt, then soft touches between, and down over his balls.  " _Ennissss_ ," Jack sighed, rising up onto his hands and knees, letting Ennis how much he wanted him.    
  
Ennis rubbed some of the oil onto himself, and his fingers.  He pressed a gentle finger inside Jack, both to give his lover pleasure and to get him ready for him.   Ennis slowly pushed himself inside that sweet ass he'd been missin', wrapped his arms around Jack's waist and held him, his cheek resting against the warm skin of Jack's back.  He moved out some, then in again, Jack pressing his body into Ennis' thrusts, gradually increasing in tempo this familiar dance of theirs, this connection they still shared, even after four years apart.  Ennis reached down and stroked Jack to orgasm, and Jack groaned in pleasure, calling Ennis' name.  Ennis was close himself, and buried his face in the crook of Jack's neck and shoulder, muffling his cries of " _Jack"_ as he came, and laying a trail of kisses there.  
  
Ennis thought back to their first time, in the tent up on Brokeback, with nothin' but his own slick and spit to aid them. No need for the desperate, frantic pace their coupling had taken back then, when they weren't sure of their feelings or what they meant, or how long they would last.  They took their time with their lovemaking now; they had each other now, no need to rush.  But it was no less passionate than it was then; Ennis was a more patient, tender lover now, and Jack had most always been that way.  


* * *

  
Afterwards, Ennis lay wrapped in Jack's arms.  "Four years.  Damn."  Jack murmured, kissing the top of Ennis' head, nuzzling his blond curls.  He pulled Ennis closer to him.  
  
"So what did ya tell everyone, that you was goin’ fishin’?  No lie - I guess they just don’t have to know it’s deep-sea fishin’ for blue marlin off the coast of O'ahu."  Jack said, laughing.   
  
"So what do ya want ta do while we're here?  We prob'ly oughta think about gettin' somethin' ta eat . . . whadda ya feel like, a steak, seafood?" Jack spoke excitedly.    
  
"Yeah, four years."  Ennis said, affectionately patting Jack's arm.  "Well, looks like some things never change," he said.   "Still can go on a mile a minute.  Now hold on, Jack, before ya get carried away with all a these plans, I got somethin’ I need ta tell ya . . . Ennis’ voice trailed off.  
  
"No, Ennis." Jack interrupted, knowing just what it was that Ennis wanted to tell him, and not wanting it to spoil everything, at least not now.   "Not now, ya can tell me whatever’s on your mind later."  Jack never let on that he already knew.  
  
Again, as was the case many times since Jack had been gone, Ennis was struck by an sharp sense of emptiness.  The thought of not having Jack in his life, and he tried to push it out of his mind.   He knew he'd been given a gift, all those years ago up on Brokeback.   
  
"Don't wanna lose ya, Jack."  he said.  
  
Jack reached for his cigarettes and Zippo lighter on the bedside table, and offered the pack to Ennis.   Ennis took one out and lit it with the lighter, his thumb spinning the flint wheel to spark the flame, and exhaled a trail of smoke.  He closed the lid and examined the sterling silver lighter, initials " _ **J.C.T**_." engraved on the lid, and the inscription  " _De Oppresso Liber, Vietnam_ " on the body.  The lighters were pretty much like currency over there, sometimes hard to come by, traded on the black market, and Jack was happy that he'd been able to acquire one.   He turned it over in his hand, feeling the weight of it, admiring its worn patina, and it was then that he saw the initials " _ **E.C.D.**_ " etched on the back of it.  
  
"Jack." he said.    
  
"Ya see?  You're with me all the time.  Won it in a poker game.  Figured it was lucky, so I had it engraved.   Don't worry, I ain't goin' nowhere."  Jack said, his voice a near-whisper, taking back the lighter to light up a cigarette for himself.  
  
"What's it mean, Jack, what ya got written on it?"  Ennis asked.  
  
"It's Latin, means 'To free the oppressed'."  Jack replied.  "It's the Special Forces motto.  Kinda liked that idea, I guess."  
  
An aroused Jack had breathed in Ennis' ear when they had been kissing earlier.  It seemed Jack had also learned some French while he'd been away, and, while not fluent, when he spoke, sometimes an occasional word or phrase would slip out.  The words were foreign to Ennis, and the sound tickled his ears and delighted him.   When he'd asked Jack what it meant, Jack smiled, slightly embarrassed, and told him, "Sorry, I forget what language I'm talkin' in sometimes; it means my sweetheart, my darlin', somethin' like that."  
  
_And you are mine,_ Ennis thought _._  


* * *

  
  
Next morning, they drove to a secluded beach.  Jack tore off his clothes and dove into the ocean.  He came back up to the surface with a joyous splash and whooped, "Woohoo!  Ennis, c'mon in, water's great!"  
  
Ennis took off his clothes and joined Jack in water so deep and so clear, he could see clean through to the bottom.  They swam naked together, holding and kissing each other in the warm, turquoise waves; and with arms outstretched over their heads, bodies riding the crests back in, laughing and shouting in the roar of the gentle surf as it tumbled them back onto the sand.  
  
They never dreamed it could be like this, the outside world and its troubles forgotten for a short while.


	18. R&R, Part III - Times Like These

Honolulu, Hawaii - August 1967

  
They dried themselves off and lay on towels on the white-sand beach, relaxing in the sun, its heat penetrating straight through to their bones.   Laysan albatross soared and dipped on the warm air currents and updrafts, floating on nearly motionless wings above an ocean sparkling in the sun, and white-tailed tropicbirds, their calls sounding like the whistle of a ship's boatswain, so graceful in flight with their long tail feathers streaming behind them.  As the tide rolled in, the waves were a translucent aquamarine as the light shone through them just before they broke, seafoam rushed in almost to their feet, and they breathed in the smell of its salt tang in the air.   Palms swayed lazily, their green fronds rustling in the gentle and cooling trade wind breezes.  
  
Ennis leaned back on his elbows, right knee bent and the other straight out in front of him, closed his eyes and turned his face up into the sun, taking in all it had to give them. Jack looked at him, the beauty of Ennis’ profile in the shadow of the sun, his blond hair wet and slicked back from swimming.   His eyes continued on down Ennis’ naked body; Jack thought he looked like some sort of sun god or somethin', all bronzed skin and hair streaked with gold.  He ran a toe along Ennis’ leg.  
  
"Ennis, if you don’t stop lookin’ so damned good, I’m gonna hafta have ya right here on this beach." Jack said with a laugh.   Ennis smiled and reached over to touch Jack’s face, droplets of seawater still clinging to his lashes.  
  
"S’all right by me." he said.   "Can’t believe you done all this, Jack."  
  
Here he was, lying naked as the day he was born, on a beach in Hawaii, with Jack.  With noone else could Ennis be himself like this, just who he was, no pretense, no bullshit.  Even if he tried, Jack could cut through it all anyway.

"‘Course I did, for us." Jack said. "Well, for me too, I will admit.  I love you, and I wanted to be with you, Ennis."  
  
Ennis leaned over and kissed him.  Jack tasted like the salt and sea.  
  
"I love you." he told Jack. 

"Makes it all worth it, hearin’ you say that." Jack said, and they kissed more intensely, Ennis taking Jack’s tongue into his mouth.   Ennis took Jack in his arms, urging him to lie back, and rolled over on top of him, in the sand, pressing his body into Jack's.  Jack broke away from the kiss for a moment, but only to whisper "Think we better take this on back to the room, don't you."  
  
They dressed quickly and drove back to the hotel, and made love for the rest of the afternoon, until they finally dozed off in a spent and satisfied heap.

 

* * *

 

"Ennis, let's go out somewhere nice for dinner tonight." Jack said, when they awoke.  "I'm gonna go take a shower, you wanna join me?"

Ennis did want to, and they washed each other, caressing, kissing and laughing under the spray of water, simple lovers' intimacies that helped to heal Jack's wounded spirit, and soothe Ennis' troubled one.  
  
Jack stepped out of the shower when they were done, wrapped himself in a white hotel towel, and tossed one to Ennis. He wiped off the steamy mirror and prepared to shave, shaving cream on his face and neck with a shaving brush, then swiping the double-edged safety razor over and down his face. He tilted up his chin and shaved underneath it.

Ennis wrapped the towel around his waist as he climbed out of the shower, and watched Jack as he shaved.  
  
"Now who’s lookin’ so damn good, huh?"

Jack bent over the sink and splashed cool water on his face, washing away the remaining traces of shaving cream, rinsed his razor, and patted his face dry with a towel.  He ran his hand over his hair, noticed it had had grown in some.   
  
"I'm gonna be needin' a haircut before I go back."  he said, running his hand absently over his hair.    
  
"That's some ritual ya got there, Jack."  Ennis teased.  
  
"Yeah, well, believe me when I tell ya it don't happen very often."  Jack said.  "Usually up ta my ass in mud and shit."  
  
Ennis laughed and slapped Jack on his butt, looking at their reflections in the mirror, like a picture in a frame.  
  
"Now move over, I gotta get ready too." Ennis wrapped his arms around Jack’s shoulders, kissed his smooth, clean-shaven cheek.   
  
"Mmmmm, you smell good." he said.  
  
Jack got dressed, pulling on a pair of khaki pants and one of his olive drab Army tee shirts.  
  
"Hey Ennis, ya want a drink?" he hollered in to the bathroom to Ennis as Ennis finished dressing.  
  
"Sure."   Ennis called.  
  
"I’m goin’ out for some ice then, be right back." Jack said.

Jack returned with the filled ice bucket. He looked in on Ennis, who was rinsing off his face.  
  
"You missed a spot." Jack said and wiped away a stray bit of shaving cream from just beneath Ennis’ ear with his index finger and kissed Ennis on the shoulder.  
  
Jack put a single ice cube in each glass, opened up the bottle of bourbon he’d brought and poured them each a drink, the crackling ice cubes making it bloom.

 

* * *

 

They had an early dinner at a little place called The Outrigger, nothing fancy, but the food was good. Ennis ordered a charbroiled steak with steak fries; Jack, the grilled ahi, they started off with the house salad, and decided on the macadamia and coconut bread pudding with ice cream and caramel sauce for dessert.  
  
"Man, I’m starvin’, I ain’t had a decent meal in God knows when." Jack said.  "I just miss havin’ real food, you know?  Know what else I miss?  Havin’ breakfast.   Wanna do that tomorrow mornin’?"

"Yeah." Ennis said.

"How’re things at the ranch?" Jack asked.  "I called my folks, they seem to be doin' all right."

"We’re managin’; hard, though, with K.E. bein’ gone. Ya see K.E. much?" Ennis asked, after taking a drink of his beer.

"Yeah, all the time, just my luck," Jack said. "And we both know that if it wasn't for bad luck, I wouldn’t have no luck at all."  Jack laughed.  "He sure hates my guts."

"Nah, he don’t, he’s a good man, you’ll see, once you get ta know ‘im." Ennis said. "He tell ya anythin’?"

"Matter a'fact, he did." Jack replied.

"Then you know."

"Yep, sure do."  
  
"Then why didn’t ya say anythin’ till now? Jack, I wanted ta tell ya . . ."

"Don’t matter.  I understand in a way, I do." Jack said. "I'd probably a'done the same as you, if it’d happened to me."

"Wanna see a picture of my daughter, Alma, Jr.?" Ennis reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet.

Jack took the photograph from Ennis and studied it, a picture of a little girl with blonde curls of about four who was the spittin’ image of her father.   It broke his heart to see her;  he looked up at Ennis with a bittersweet expression and said, "She’s beautiful, but then I knew she would be."

"You believe in this war, Jack?" Ennis asked just as the waiter brought their food. "You ain’t plannin’ on re-enlistin’ ‘n signin’ up for another tour, are you?"

"Dunno anymore, don’t make no difference anyway.  I was called up to do a job and I done it.  If it hadn’t a been me, someone else woulda had to go.  Can’t explain it any better 'n that." Jack said.

"You done it with anybody else, Jack, over there?" Ennis asked suddenly, seemingly out of the blue to Jack, but it was something that had been on Ennis' mind for awhile.

"Why you askin’ me that, you're married, fer Chrissakes." Jack said, sounding annoyed.  
  
"It ain’t like it is with us." Ennis said. "You know that, don'tcha?"

Jack hesitated, then put his knife and fork down and said, "No, I haven’t done it with no other man over there, but it ain’t for lack a wantin’ to, Ennis. You don’t know how bad it gets. But I haven’t, for a few reasons; number one, it ain’t safe; two, it ain’t that easy ta find someone; three, ya ain’t got no privacy; and four, five and six; they ain’t you.  I’d only be foolin’ myself.  But there was a gal or two, seen one of  'em a few times."  
  
"Can't blame you for that I guess."  Ennis said.   He couldn’t hold back his relief and grinned.   Just why it didn't bother him as much, about Jack's being with a woman, he couldn't say.  
  
"Christ, Ennis." Jack so wanted to be angry with him, yet he could rarely be seriously upset with Ennis.  
  
"And wipe that goddammned grin off your face, it ain’t funny." But Jack couldn’t help but grin himself.

"Ennis, you tell me that you don’t think about the things we said and did, every goddamned day a your life, and even worse at night.  You tell me you don’t, and that’ll be the end of it, swear ta God, you’ll never see me again.   I mean it.  I’ll just go back ta Lightnin' Flat once I’m done with the war, and try ta make somethin’ of my folks' place, figure out what the hell I'm gonna do with the rest a' my life."  
  
Ennis couldn't respond.

"Ya can’t, can ya." Jack said in triumph, Ennis’ silence reinforcing what he was so sure of, sure as the sun was gonna come up the next mornin’.  
  
"I know you can’t, ‘cause I know you love me.  You only tole me and showed me more ‘n a hunnerd times.  Ennis, when I’m done with this war, if I make it outta there, I want us to try to have that life together, the one we talked about."

"Jack, you know I do, and I want that too." Ennis said. "And you're wrong, Jack, I do know how bad it gets."

"Then that’s all that matters, and to hell with everythin’ else. Now I ain’t gettin’ all worked up over this no more, I didn’t come here for that – I did this so we could be together, and we could enjoy each other.  Just sayin’, is all. And it ain’t fair to Alma neither."

"I know, I know, I don't need you ta tell me that." Ennis sighed. "Let me try and figure things out, Jack.  Don’t worry, I’ll get ya good ‘n worked up later on tonight.  You know how I love that." he said with a wink, changing the subject.  
  
"Don't be too sure a'yerself Cowboy, met this fella from the Australian Army over there, kinda reminded me a you."  Jack teased.   "Geoff was his name."  
  
"Geoff."  Ennis snorted at the very idea.   Jack laughed out loud.  
  
"Let’s go, Jack." Ennis said, after they had finished their desserts and coffee, and motioned for the check.  "I’ll get this."  
  
 

* * *

  
Ennis and Jack took a leisurely drive around the island's coast after dinner, the top of the convertible down, the verdant Ko'olau mountains cut with thin ribbons of silvery waterfalls from the previous day's rain to their left, crashing waves on their right, in the cool mist of the sea air.   They took the Kamehameha Highway up to Waimea Bay on the North Shore, pulling over whenever the spirit moved them to admire the scenery of the many bays and coves they would encounter, each one seeming more beautiful than the next, and just to talk, it had been so long.  
  
From there, the road took on a more rural character, as they drove by a pineapple plantation, passed abandoned buildings and shacks from the days of the sugar mills, overgrown and nearly hidden in the lush vegetation, small but well kept homes with corrugated tin rooftops, and even a cattle ranch, a tap on the brakes to avoid some squawking and fluttering-winged chickens as they rounded a turn.  
  
Once they arrived in Hale'iwa town, they stopped at a package store and picked up a couple of six-packs to take back to the hotel,  and two shave ices.  But instead, they ended up parking near the beach again to watch the sun go down and admire the waves, a good size now, but not nearly as big as they would become in winter, when the town became a surfer's haven.  
  
Jack popped open the top of a can of beer, and handed one to Ennis.  He clicked open the lid of his Zippo and lit up a cigarette.

"Ennis, wish there was more we could do while we’re here, ‘sides gettin’ drunk and havin’ sex." Jack laughed. "Money’s a little tight.  I only get about a hundred and fifty bucks a month in the Army, and I'm just about tapped out.  Try ta send a few dollars home when I can.  I had all a these big plans for us."

"It’s ok, Jack, can’t think a nothin’ else I’d rather be doin' anyway."  Ennis teased him.  
  
"You know I’ll help out with money if you need it, just say the word.   Just bein’ here with you is enough, in this place, it’s beautiful, more than I could've ever thought.  Sure could get used to livin' like this."

"Me too." Jack sighed.  "I 'preciate that Ennis, but you can't have much more money to spare than I do, what with a kid and all, 'n keepin' the ranch goin'.  I'll be fine."  
  
"Well, I'm here for you if ya ever need anythin', just the same.  Don't you ever doubt it."  Ennis said.  
  
"You sure ya don’t wanna go see no hula girls while we got the chance." Jack said, all deadpan.   Ennis busted out laughing, almost snorting his beer.  
  
"Uh, no, don’t think so, Jack."

"Well alright then, just checkin’." Jack said, and they both shook with laughter.  
  
But before they left, because you couldn't come all this way and not, they did go to a luau and took in a Hawaiian dance show too.  It was wonderful and they enjoyed it immensely.  
  
Ennis turned and reached into the back seat for his backpack and got out the camera, stepped out of the car to take a few shots of the sunset, finishing up another roll.   There were quite a few pictures of Ennis and Jack on them; both separately and together.  They had met a retired couple from Scottsdale, Arizona on their vacation when they visited the Pali Lookout, who asked if the young soldier and his friend wouldn't mind taking a picture for them, and after exchanging pleasantries and where they were from, the couple handed Ennis their camera, stood close together and smiled as he obliged them and took their photograph, and they thanked him warmly.  The woman looked back at them, thought for a moment, smiled and said, "Would you two like a picture for yourselves?", and she and her husband returned the favor, Ennis with his arm around Jack's shoulders, Jack's arm around Ennis' waist, relaxed pictures in aloha shirts and brightly colored island tee shirts, shorts and flip-flops.   Ennis realized that he had forgotten to hesitate, and that it was all right.

* * *

  
From their lofty overlook, they noticed flashes of light and shadow moving through the water.  A large group of green sea turtles had congregated offshore, swimming and bobbing in the waves, making their way along the beach in the cool and calm of the evening.  
  
"Would ya look at that."   Ennis said.  
  
"Beautiful.   Must mean somethin' good, I would think. To see so many of 'em all together like that."   Jack mused.  
  
"We've come a long ways since Brokeback days, huh?"  Ennis said, taking a drag of Jack's cigarette.  
  
"Yeah."  Jack said.  He reclined his seat back a little, and leaned back, looking up a the sky.  
  
They sat like that, just drinkin' and talkin', until the sun came up the next mornin'.

 

* * *

 

Jack awoke with a start. The sliding door to the lanai was open, drapes billowing ghostly in the night breeze. He thought he’d heard something, but it was just some noise outside, must have been a car backfirin’ or somethin’, not gunfire. He tended to be a light sleeper since bein’ over in ‘Nam. It took him a minute or two to get his bearings, realize where he was. He was all tangled up in the sheets, and Ennis. He rubbed his eyes and checked the clock; it was the middle of the night. A chill passed through him and he shivered, even in the warmth of the night and bein’ so close to Ennis’ body, the one constant in his life.  He’d have to return in a few days. The war wasn’t done with him yet.  He held on tight to Ennis, and closed his eyes, Ennis' peaceful breathin' lulling him back to sleep.

Ennis awoke with the early light of dawn, as he was accustomed to doin’ every mornin’, light streaming in through the lanai. He looked down at Jack sleeping in his arms, and gently kissed him awake. His heart ached with feelin’ for him.

"C’mon, sleepyhead, thought you wanted to get up early this mornin’ and go out for breakfast." Ennis whispered, and caressed Jack’s face, and Jack’s eyelids began to flutter, and he smiled a just-awoken and blissful smile.  
  
"Hmmm, mmornin'." Jack said, his voice still thick with sleep.  
  
"Didya sleep ok?" Ennis asked, as he kissed him again. "Little darlin’." Ennis murmured, quite by accident, and surprised himself. _There, he’d said it, no takin’ it back now_.

"Fine." Jack said, as he yawned and stretched, not wanting to worry Ennis by telling him he’d had another restless night.

"Where’d ya wanna go? Ennis asked, and Jack said he’d seen a little place not far from the hotel that looked all right, one that they could walk to.   But Jack woke up with a serious desire that needed tendin' to first, and he guided Ennis' hand between his legs.

 

* * *

  
They showered together again, got dressed and walked out into the sun, down to the Aloha Café. Ennis had picked up a copy of The Honolulu Star-Bulletin at the hotel desk, so he could find out what was goin' on in the rest of the world.  Their waitress, a lovely Hawaiian woman, sat them at a table by the open windows and handed them their menus.

"Good morning, coffee?" she asked pleasantly.  
  
"Yep, black please." Ennis said.

"Same here, sure need it this mornin’." Jack said, smiling up at her.  She noticed Jack's military haircut and sighed; she'd seen so many of them coming to Hawaii on leave. 

She came back with two steaming mugs of Kona coffee, strong and black, and took their orders. Jack ordered two eggs over easy, bacon, home fries and toast.  Ennis got scrambled eggs with crumbled Portuguese chouriço sausage and a short stack of banana macadamia nut pancakes.  
  
Jack smiled.  
  
"I dunno, livin' kinda dangerously there, ain't ya bud?"  he said, kidding Ennis about ordering something other than his usual fare, but pleased to see him like this, trying new things, doing whatever he wanted, with no worries, for a change.  
  
"Shuddup, Twist."  Ennis grinned.  
  
Their waitress also brought them some homemade mango bread, for them to enjoy while they waited for their food, on the house, in honor of Jack's being on leave.  
  
"Welcome home, son." she said.

"Thank you, ma’am." Jack said.  
  
"Man, this coffee is good." Jack said, and Ennis had to agree.   Even a simple cup of coffee was a pleasure for Jack, having been away for so long.  
  
"We don’t get fresh eggs much over in 'Nam." Jack said.   "Just that powdered shit on base.  Lucky if we can scare up a couple a chickens in the villes 'n barter for some eggs ever' once in awhile.  An' you should see us boilin' water for coffee usin' plastic explosive.   We know how ta make do out there!"  he joked.  
  
Ennis chuckled as he poured maple syrup over his pancakes.  
  
"Jack, don’t know where you put it all." Ennis said, chuckling as he watched Jack enjoy his food.  He was fascinated by everything Jack did, even watchin' 'im breathe pretty much, and most of all listenin' to Jack's tales.  
  
Yep, Jack sure could eat.  'Course, Ennis had done pretty well himself on the days they'd gone to a Hawaiian barbecue joint for lunch and ordered the plate lunch special, both of them heartily diving into plates piled high with Kalua pork and cabbage, teriyaki and huli-huli barbecued chicken, Korean beef bulgogi, and steamed vegetables, or grilled fresh jumbo prawns and ears of sweet Kahuku corn from a shrimp truck, and that always came with a side of macaroni salad and rice.   Ennis thought they ate like kings.  
  
They asked that the rest of the mango bread be wrapped, to go, and settled up.

 

* * *

  

It was their last day on the island.  For the chance to have this precious time together, they had known they would have to pay double in heartache when it came time for Jack to leave.  It would be twice as hard for them to go back to the way things were before, Ennis in Wyoming, Jack eight thousand miles away in Vietnam.   They packed, not saying much, as if somehow not acknowledging it would delay the inevitable.  But their hearts were heavy with it.  Jack dressed in his khaki uniform, and prepared to take Ennis to the airport.  Ennis hadn't ever seen Jack in uniform until now.   He thought Jack must be the best looking man he'd ever seen.

They were able to spend a little more time together before Ennis’ flight was announced.  He would have to board soon.  Ennis held Jack tightly as they said their goodbyes, kissed his neck, oblivious to everyone else around them, Jack his only focus.  
  
"You come back to me." he whispered.  
  
"I will, I swear." Jack promised, and pressed his Zippo lighter into Ennis’ hand.  As if Ennis could forget him.  
  
"And you’d best be givin’ some thought to that sweet life for when I do." Jack said.  
  
"Jack, I swear . . ."  Ennis said.  
  
The final boarding announcement crackled over the PA system:  
  
_"This is the final boarding call for Western Airlines Flight Number 46 to San Francisco, continuing on to Salt Lake City.  All passengers who have not yet boarded please proceed to Gate 9 immediately."_  
  
"Gotta go, Jack." Ennis said, as he turned and headed to the gate, ticket in hand.  
  
Ennis entered the jetway and boarded his flight, couldn't look back and see that he was leaving Jack behind, because if he did, he’d lose his resolve. The plane took off, its airfoils and lift defying the Earth’s pull of gravity, the only thing powerful enough to separate them.

As Ennis walked away, Jack had considered for a brief moment grabbin' him, runnin' away and never lookin' back.  But he turned in his rental car, and caught the bus at the R&R center to Hickam Air Force Base for his return flight to Vietnam.

And Jack flew back to Vietnam, gazing out the window of the plane, through the clouds. He knew how much Ennis loved him now, and knowing that, he felt he could do anything, endure anything.

Sage, Wyoming - October 1967

Alma sure was getting’ tired of this lonesome ol’ ranch, and bein’ married to an indifferent husband.  Married life hadn't turned out quite like the bill of goods she’d been sold.  
  
_Ennis,_ she thought. Even if she up and left him tomorrow, it’d probably take him a week ta even notice she was gone. The ranch kept him busy, and even Jack Twist was higher on Ennis' priority list than she was.  
  
She was bored, and thought she might take the car and go into town, stop at the fabric store, pick up some material for the upcoming holidays.   She wanted to make Alma Jr. a dress for Christmas, maybe something in velvet.  It was always a treat for her to go to the fabric store; she'd look at all of the fabrics, running her hands over the different textures, her mind creating somethin' from nothin'.  She was good at that, she'd sewn her weddin' dress.  When she'd thumb through the fashion magazines from New York and Paris, she didn't dare wonder if maybe she could do it for a livin'.  And she was tired of tryin' ta make somethin' from nothin' with her husband.  
  
"Grace?" she called. "I’m goin’ to do a few errands in town, ya need anythin’?"  
  
"Alma, let me give you a list, if you could stop in and pick up a few things from Monroe’s I'd appreciate it, if you don’t mind."  Grace said.  
  
"I will, can you watch Alma Jr. for a few hours?"  
  
"Sure will, darlin'."  Grace replied.

Ennis was back when she returned.  
  
"Got quite a bit a sun, looks like, while you was away this time." she said, noticing Ennis’ sunkissed face, wonderin' if maybe Jack Twist had also been kissin' it.

"Yeah, well, we was up in the Tetons, like I told ya, spent a lot a time up around Jackson Lake, went swimmin’." Ennis said.

"Oh? Didn’t get any fish?"

"Yeah, caught us some cutthroats and a couple browns, but we cooked ‘em up. Didn’t get any the last day ta take home with us though."  
  
"I see."  Alma said.  
  
_Alma, you're just upset with him again and thinkin' crazy_ , she thought.

 

* * *

  
Nha Trang, Vietnam - October 1967  
  
K.E. drifted off to sleep, and started dreamin’. He remembers his daddy takin’ him ta town for supplies and his daddy stoppin’ in for a drink at the bar. He’d leave K.E. off for an hour. "Don’t tell yer Ma, she’ll have my hide," he’d told him. K.E. got bored one time and followed him, sneakin’ in when noone was lookin’. He used ta hide out until Pete, the bartender, caught him one day and told his daddy. But before that, K.E. had heard quite a few things from his daddy and his friends at the bar. Shootin’ the shit, mostly. They used to laugh and make fun of Earl and Rich quite a bit, callin’ ‘em names. First, it was just the jokes 'n namecallin';  later on, K.E. would hear things like throwin’ rocks through the windows at their ranch. Then, it was the beatin’ with the tire iron. He’d heard ‘em talkin’ about it. Then his Daddy took him and Ennis ta see it after it was done. He’d heard ‘em talkin’ about it. He knew what they was gonna do, and didn’t do nothin’ ta stop it. He was as bad as they were. No better than the goddamned Klan. _I don’t want ta see that happen ta Ennis._ K.E. woke up suddenly, in a cold sweat.

Saigon, South Vietnam – December 1967

The Vietnamese people were preparing for their New Year’s celebration, or Tet, as it was called, the first morning of the first day of the lunar new year, their most sacred of holidays.  Some would drape a tree with most of its leaves removed or a bamboo pole outside their homes with red paper to ward off evil.  They would pay tribute to their ancestors during this time.  It would be the year 1968, the Year of the Monkey.  
  
Back in the States, people were preparing for the holidays as well.  Anti-war protests mounted throughout the country in political and philosophical opposition to the war, and in reaction to the ever-increasing body counts being graphically tallied on the evening news in their living rooms every night.  By December 1967, United States military personnel in Vietnam would total over five hundred thousand.


	19. Makin' Acquaintances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally written for the "Not Exactly Love At First Sight" or the Slap, Slap Kiss, February 2010 Challenge.

* * *

  
"‘member that, Ennis." Jack said, grinning, recallin' back to how they met.  
  
"How could I forget."  Ennis chuckled.

 

Signal, Wyomng - 1963 - Nice To Know Ya, Ennis Del Mar

Ennis had jumped out of the passenger side of the cab of the eighteen-wheeler, an empty cattle truck, tipped his hat in thanks to its driver, who had been kind enough to give him a lift to Signal so's he could apply for this job.  
  
He shrugged into his worn coat, walked up to the trailer, knocked first, and upon receivin’ no answer, peered through the dusty and yellowed blinds that were hanging askew on the trailer door’s window. He tried the door handle; it was locked.  
  
Didn’t look like anyone was around just yet, so he leaned up against the side of the trailer, lit a cigarette.   Smoked some of it, then put the rest in his pocket, savin’ it for later.  Always savin’ somethin’ for later.  Leaned back against the side of the trailer again, pulled down his hat and closed his eyes for a little rest, closed them to the sand and dust kickin’ up, settled into his thoughts, tried to shut out the noise of a train whistle just then, and the freight train thundered by; shakin' everythin' as it passed.

He was distracted then by the sound of a truck backfirin’, looked up to see an old blue 1950 GMC pickup truck pull up and shudder to a stop.   An agitated young man stepped out, all in blue; jeans, and the shirt a faded denim, with a black cowboy hat. He kicked one of the truck’s fenders with nice-lookin' cowboy boots that looked like they must've cost a pretty penny’r two when they was brand new, like that was gonna do any good, swearin’ and a-cussin’ the air blue as well.

"Fuckin’ brokedown, no good, piece a' shit." And he spat on the ground, turned and fixed Ennis with a cool stare, drapin’ his long limbs against the side of his old truck and took a good long look at him, stompin’ the ground with his boot like some young clean-limbed colt, all cocksure and insolent, as Ennis watched him.   Looked about the same age as him; that would've been nineteen years old.

 _‘the fuck you lookin’ at._   Jack had wanted to say.    
   
_Lanky and blond; and good-lookin’ too, but almost hard to see it, as he was all closed off into himself,_ he'd thought.  
   
Then the young man opened the door of his truck, took off his hat to reveal straight, jet black hair that he ran his fingers through as he pushed it away from his eyes, and tossed the hat onto the front seat. Went through a duffel bag and took out a chipped enamel cup, also blue, and a razor, filled the cup with a little water from the pump spigot, and sat  down in the front seat to shave in the truck’s side mirror.  Didn’t seem to have too much neither, for all of his blusterin'.

Ennis jiggled his leg nervously, and he looked quickly away and then down at the ground, suddenly conscious of the worn soles of his own old cowboy boots and ill-fitting shirt under his coat, fingers tightening around the rolled-up edges of the brown paper sack he was holding, that contained his own meager belongings.  Wasn’t much for talkin’ to people he knew, nevermind a stranger. He looked up at him again from under the brim of his cowboy hat, seeming unable to keep his eyes off him for very long, watchin’ him and tryin’ to be nonchalant about it.  
  
Then somethin' came over Ennis, made him walk up and approach the young man who was havin' car trouble.  
  
"Here, let me take a look."  he said.   He looked under the hood, checked the spark plugs, made an adjustment to the choke.  
  
"Wanna give it some gas?"  he said, and Jack pressed his foot down on the accelerator and revved the engine.  
  
"Just needed a little adjustment, was all."  Ennis smiled shyly, wiping any grease from his hands on a crumpled rag that he returned to his pocket.  
  
Now Jack knew his way around a car engine, but Ennis had a gift for it.   One thing about Ennis, there was nothin' on wheels he couldn't figure out and fix.  
  
The young man had blue eyes too, Ennis noticed, as Jack remembered his manners and thanked him for his help.  
  
They heard Joe Aguirre's car drive up, followed him up the stairs to his office, and after a quick and gruff explanation of their duties, Aguirre tossed an old watch to Ennis, and their time on the mountain began.

 

* * *

 

He’d lit a cigarette with a battered lighter, cupping the end of it against the wind, and then held out a large, strong hand to him, introducing himself as Jack Twist.

Ennis mumbled his name in response.

"Ain’t ya got a last name, or your folks just stop there?  he had teased Ennis, with a broad grin.

"Del Mar." Ennis had managed to smile a little himself, shook Jack's hand.

"Well, nice to know ya, Ennis Del Mar." he said.  And they headed to the local bar for a drink, because Jack Twist said if they was gonna be workin’ together, they might as well start drinkin’ together too, and Ennis couldn’t argue with that.   They spent the better part of the afternoon and evenin' knocking down a few longnecks.

Jack went up to the jukebox and chose a song, Hank Williams, took a drag of his cigarette as he walked back to his seat, and they proceeded in to drinkin’ and talkin’ ‘n smokin’ together, a friendship maybe getting off to a promising start.

Ennis felt the need to move over a bit to make room for Jack as he sat down on the bar stool, bigger ‘n life, and they stumbled out of the bar later that night, laughing and just a little feelin’ good drunk, not too much ‘cause they had to work in the mornin’, or was it somethin’ else that made Ennis feel tipsy.  
  
Luckily they didn't have far to go.  They had a place to stay in Signal, a double room at the little motel, spare but clean, and most importantly, cheap, as it was being paid for by Joe Aguirre as part of their work assignment.   As they fell into their separate beds, the room spinnin' a little from the drinkin', Ennis' head was full of dreams.  
  
They'd be trucked up to the jumpoff in the mornin'.

 

* * *

 

 _Well now, this is gonna be just great, I can see that_ , Ennis thought in exasperation, all of the hopefulness of the previous day gone right out the window.  Jack wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t follow directions, pissed and moaned about ev’rythin’, ‘specially the food when they were at the end of their rations, where Ennis was always happy to make do, and couldn’t properly handle a horse to save his own life.  He was a rodeo cowboy; his Daddy had said rodeo cowboys was all fuckups, all for show, all bluster.  
  
Shyanne didn’t suffer fools lightly neither, and Ennis feared she’d throw him if he didn’t watch himself around her, and he had warned Jack about her nature, but Jack had just scoffed defiantly, as he yanked Shyanne's reins, goin’ on about how he never met a filly yet who could throw him.  
  
Ennis reckoned that no girl or woman would want to throw him, with his good looks.  Too bad he prob'ly knew it and was so big feelin' and full of himself.  
  
Ennis frowned, his brow wrinkling; first in confusion, then out of concern for him.  
  
"Better watch it there, all the same."  
  
"Look, are we gonna git goin', or are ya gonna be tyin' them knots all day?"  
  
Impatient, as Ennis always took care tying down their gear on the pack mules.  Always in a hurry about somethin'.  Probably meant he was careless too.  
  
He chuckled.  Sure enough, Ennis would later find out that Shyanne had tossed him on his ass, right on cue.   Shyanne was the name that Jack would later give her.  
  
Jack told Ennis this between off-key blasts of a harmonica.  
  
"Aguirre ain't got no right makin' me do this."  Jack had continued grousing.   "We both oughtta be in this camp, by rights."  
  
Well, that did it.  Ennis was finally fed up.  
  
"Whaddaya mean, Aguirre ain't got no right?   He's payin' ya, ain't he?   He's the boss ain't he?  That gives him the right.  And that's just the way it is, Jack, with just about ever'thin'."  
  
"Well, I'll be glad when I finally get a place a' my own, so I won't have ta put up with crap from people like Joe Aguirre no more."  Jack replied.  
  
"Yeah, well good luck with that."  Ennis said flatly, thinkin' about how his own family struggled trying to keep a ranch goin', nearly drove his Daddy into the ground.  
  
_Oh Lord, deliver me,_ Ennis had silently prayed, only half jokingly, looking heavenward and then shaking his head.

 

* * *

  
Got to be so bad that Ennis offered to switch places with him; Jack could stay in camp and Ennis'd go up with the sheep, just to get a little peace and quiet, and away from that feelin' a bein' all stirred up, that Jack always seemed to bring out in him whenever he was around.  
  
Jack didn't mind cookin' the meals, although he wasn't much of a cook back then.  About the best you could say for him was that he was pretty handy with a can opener.   But he'd try his best, make the coffee.  
  
He did the washin', wearin' nothin' but his boots, shiverin' a little in the cool breeze near the creek.  Nobody could see him naked this far out anyway.   Had to, since he only had two shirts to his name 'n both of 'em were dirty.   He remembered that by some stroke of luck he had found them boots at the Salvation Army thrift store in Fort Worth, Texas, never worn.  
  
No, he didn't have much, but what he did have he tried to keep nice.  Beauty was a respite from the harsher things in life.  He washed the shirts in the clear water with one of the bars of Ivory soap that they also used for bathin', beatin' the dirt and soap suds out of 'em with a stick, then rinsed them, twistin' 'em to wring the excess water out of 'em.   Did Ennis' too, set up some rope between two trees as a clothesline and let 'em dry in the sun.   One of Ennis' shirts, the light plaid one, had started to fray slightly at one of the collar points.   But he still took great pains to fold up Ennis' shirts all nice for when he got back.   Ennis found his clean clothes left in a neat pile when he returned to camp for supper.  
  
Ennis was learnin' not to judge a book by its flashy cover.    Didn't mean there wasn't nothin' worthwhile inside.  
  
Rememberin' his manners, he thanked Jack.

 

* * *

  
"No more beans."  Jack said over his shoulder one day, as he climbed up into the saddle to go up to the sheep.   Shyanne was being remarkably cooperative.

"Whut, you think yer in some big fancy hotel ‘r sumthin’?  Ennis called after him in annoyance.  "This ain’t no gourmay rest’raunt.  Beans’s all we got."

He asked for some boxes of soup, though, the next time the Basque came up with supplies.   Canned minestrone heated up over the fire, and a round of brown bread, and some butter.   Jack had been starvin' when he came back down for supper that night, and had much appreciated it.   They broke off hunks of the bread, buttered them, and dipped into the rich, hearty broth as they both ate hungrily by the campfire.   Somethin' so simple, yet it tasted like the best thing they had ever had, and Jack told Ennis so.   Jack started in to giving chapter and verse about how good it was, the history of it, or some such thing he'd read somewheres, and Ennis just laughed.  
  
"Didn't think it was that good."  Ennis said, chuckling.   Jack and his tall tales.  
  
"What, ya don't b'lieve me?"  Jack had said, laughing too.  "It's true."

 

* * *

   
"Goodnight, ladies.   C'mon now."  
  
Jack sang to the sheep, calming them as they bedded down for the night, their bleating becoming less frequent as they settled in.   Although he sang low and quiet, his voice seemed to travel a long way in the empty night air.   He glanced over, and he could see the glow of Ennis' campfire on the side of the mountain, in the dark.  Jack thought of Ennis' rugged handsomeness, and then the pleasant surprise of lips more sensual than those of any woman's.  He felt something stir in him.   He wanted to kiss them, those lips.   He watched the small speck of the fire until his eyes became drowsy and he couldn't look no more.

They got to know each other more as time went on.   Talkin' after supper over shared bottles of whiskey before he had to leave to go up to the sheep, Ennis found Jack easy to talk with, easy to laugh with, and lookin' up at him in the fire's light, and when he would allow himself to think about such things, he sometimes wondered how anyone could be that damn beautiful.  
  
On this particular night, when he'd drunk so much whiskey he could barely stand;  he crawled over on all fours to find a place to sleep, sayin' he'd go up to the sheep in the mornin', asked for an extra blanket.  
  
"Better off sleepin' in the tent."  Jack said, still sober enough that he could make his way back to the tent on his own two feet, tossing Ennis the blanket before he turned in. "Gonna get mighty cold once that fire dies down."  
  
_Jesus H._ ,  Jack had thought, pushing his hair out of his eyes again, as he listened to Ennis' huffs of breath as he tried to sleep out in the bitter cold.  _Ain’t gonna get no sleep tonight, this keeps up_.  Mornin’s came early enough as it was when you was a nightowl, and this one liked to get up with the birds.   Then he also found himself worryin' what if Ennis got cold exposure or somethin' out there, and he wasn't never gonna get no sleep with that on his mind.

"Ennis!" he'd barked.  
  
"Whut."  came a voice, breathless from the cold.  
  
"Quit yer yammerin’ and git on in here."  
  
Wouldn’t have been his first choice at the time, sleepin’ that close with another man, but Ennis was too cold to argue.    But since they were stuck with each other in this remote place for the duration, it was probably a good idea to make the best of it; or try to, at least.   He wrapped the blanket around him, shivering, and Jack heard the clatter of metal and muttered curses as Ennis tripped over some of the pots and pans that had been left out by the fire.   Jack sighed in annoyance.

"Move it over." Ennis growled, as he entered the tent.

"That side’s yours, ‘n this side’s mine." he warned, as he lay down beside Jack in the tent, turning his back to him abruptly and pulling the blankets up around him, right up to his chin he was so cold and teeth still chattering, but silently grateful for the warmth of Jack's body.  
  
"Awww hell, would ya just lay your ass down in here somewheres so's I can get some sleep, I don't care where."   Jack grumbled sleepily.   _You'll catch your death if ya don't, ya dang fool._  
  
_Yep, blond 'n good lookin'_.   Jack rolled over onto his side and smiled a self-satisfied smile, barely perceptible, as he closed his eyes to sleep.  
  
_Got him ta sleep in the tent w’me, at least._

 

* * *

 

The moon had climbed high in the night sky.  Jack stirred in his sleep with a familiar, pleasurable feelin', and one he was tired a wringin' out by himself.   Ennis had turned around in his sleep during the night, was now facing his back.  He took the chance, reached over and took Ennis' hand, guiding it between his legs, against the hardness in his jeans, his hand over Ennis', and Ennis responded, pressing his palm into him.   Jack closed his eyes with the feelin' of it, and the relief, that maybe Ennis felt the same way.  
  
Ennis had sometimes dreamt of men, and was again dreaming about this young man with the blue eyes, the culmination of nights of wondering about what his body was like down there, reaching over and touching him.   His body responded in the dream as if it were real; it seemed so real.   He sighed in his sleep, moved closer to Jack's warm body lying next to him.  
  
Dreams that he tried not to let himself think about during the day, dreams that made him angry and confused when he did think of them.    As Ennis began to wake, and realized that his hand really was between Jack's legs, and touchin' Jack's hard dick at that, he drew his hand back as if his fingers had been burned on the hot cooking grate, and he sat up abruptly.  
  
"What're ya doin'."  he said.  
  
Jack got up slowly; took Ennis hand and pressed it back against him.  Ennis could feel him, could feel how hard he was.  
  
Jack unbuckled his belt, his eyes never leaving Ennis'.  
  
"Come on."  he breathed.

 

* * *

  
  
It's Nobody's Business But Ours

Ennis rode up to the sheep - and to his dismay, he found the remains of a ewe that had been killed by wolves or coyotes, more 'n likely it was wolves, to take down an animal as big as a sheep, the coyotes comin' along afterwards to finish the job, the dogs whimperin' as if in apology for not being able to stop it.  
  
But it was nature's way; it was his fault for leavin' 'em alone up here. He sighed, a long drawn-out breath. He was the one gettin' paid to guard 'em.  Shit.  He'd always prided himself in his work, always tried to do his best, and now he was neglecting his responsibilities.  And for what?  Wastin' too much time with that Jack Twist was what. What were they gonna tell Aguirre?  Fuck. And just what the hell did he think he was doin', last night.  Wasn't right; that's why this happened.  He was gonna have to put things right.  
  
Couldn't have this if they were gonna continue to work together up here.  
  
_Jack had grabbed Ennis by his coat, fingers grasping, wanting to pull him into a kiss, but Ennis kept him at arms length._  
  
"You're on your own."  he grunted.

 _Oh no I ain't._ Jack thought.  
  
Something like instinct had taken over; Ennis' blood pounded and he turned Jack around, shoved him down on the blankets  
  
Jack grabbed Ennis' hand, pulling it around to him so that Ennis could stroke him; a rough, quick and noisy tumult, until they both collapsed together on the sleeping bags in a heap.  
  
And Ennis woke with his pants still undone and his head achin' from a powerful hangover; rubbed his eyes, rememberin' the night before.  But somethin' like pleasure was his next thought.  
  
Jack caught him just as he was about to ride off, told him he’d see him for supper, but it was almost more of a question than a statement, and Ennis just grunted a response with a cigarette in his mouth, clicked his tongue to urge Cigar Butt ahead, and was gone.  
  
_"I gotta get outta here."_ He could eat somethin’ and wash up once he got back to camp.

 

* * *

 

Ennis dismounted, tied up Cigar Butt; walked up to Jack, who was sitting overlooking the sheep, serious expression on his face.  Ennis sat down beside Jack; starin' straight ahead as he spoke.  
  
"This ain't gonna happen again."  Ennis informed Jack, matter-of-factly. "I ain't no queer."  
  
"Me neither."  
  
Ennis explained the situation to him; what had happened overnight while he'd been gone.  
  
"My fault, ain't yours." Ennis said. "Shouldn't of been drinkin' is what.  Shoulda known better."  
  
Jack bowed his head, drawing in his lower lip slightly, pulling his hat down a little further over his eyes, nodding in agreement, although he didn't agree, not at all.  The day had become a little less bright for him.  
  
"Yep." He understood.  It had not been unexpected.  
  
"Well, I'm a gonna go on down and get supper started, then." Ennis said, getting up.  
  
"Wait, I'll do it . . . that's my job . . ." Jack started to say, but Ennis insisted.  
  
Enough about it now, and he needed to keep himself busy.  
  
That night, Ennis rode back to the campsite, and slept alone.  Ennis had sat by the fire for a few awkward and uncomfortable minutes before he made ready to leave, and Jack, already in the tent, self-consciously removed his shirt making ready for sleep, taking extra time folding his clothes, drawing out the seconds before Ennis had to go, waiting for something to happen in that time, a response from Ennis perhaps, a change of mind; hell, he didn’t even know himself.  But Ennis never did, and it was always the same.  He sighed, as he heard Cigar Butt snort, Ennis' voice urging him up, and the dull thud of hooves on earth as Ennis rode away, for yet another night.  
  
But neither distance nor barrier of mountain could stop the thoughts from returning.  
 

* * *

   
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Ennis kept repeating, contrite.   Coarse language and nasty references they'd heard, even said or laughed about themselves, now seemed so wrong for what they had experienced together.  
  
"It's all right." Jack smiled, stroking Ennis' hair. "Nothin' to be sorry about."  
  
Jack was nearly speechless, for once. He'd never seen Ennis like this, the guarded Ennis was like a rock, sometimes bristly and easily agitated, but now there was a tenderness, a softness about him, his defenses down, hat in hand.   Vulnerable?  Now there was a ten-dollar word if ever there was one.  It was all Jack needed to see, to know what was happening between them.  
  
But Ennis was still keepin' Jack at arm's length.  
  
_I want to kiss you,_ _please let me kiss you,_ Jack thought.  Of all their intimacies, this was the one that would come to mean the most to Jack, the one that meant Ennis' complete acceptance of him.  
  
Jack had wanted so much to kiss Ennis, and after what seemed like a forever, Ennis finally let Jack kiss him.   Jack relished the kiss, held on to it with both hands for as long as he could, nuzzling Ennis' nose, inhaling deeply the scent of Ennis' skin, then slowly released it, his mouth traveling down the curve under Ennis’ lower lip to his chin.  
  
And Ennis let his feelings out at last, began to kiss Jack in return, first on his mouth, and then anywhere his lips could fall, on Jack’s shirtless chest, and Jack guided them back down together on the blankets.  
 

* * *

   
After that, Ennis couldn’t get enough of Jack, and they slept together, most every night. Jack would sometimes go up to the sheep with Ennis, so's they wouldn't have a repeat of losin' any more of ‘em.  
  
Jack would sometimes look up and catch Ennis starin’ at him, Ennis wantin' to make love again, and Jack would spend the hours nuzzling Ennis’ sandy blond curls, both north and south. And they'd roll around in the soft grass, bittersweet vines and thistles, under the bright sunshine, in perfect freedom on God's green earth, because that's what they were given.

"Ever'thin' we could ever want is all right here, Ennis." Jack said. "Ever'thin’".  
  
_  
_


	20. All Along The Watchtower

Sage, Wyoming – mid-November 1967  
  
  
_I come from a land that is harsh and unforgiving_  
_Winter snows can kill you,_  
_And the summer burn you dry._  
  
_When a change in the weather_  
_Makes a difference to your livin',_  
_You keep one eye on the banker_  
_And another on the sky._

 _\- Connie Kaldor - Harsh and Unforgiving (from_ _Wood River_ _, 1992)_

* * *  
  
  
Things slowly got back to routine after Ennis returned from Hawaii.  His interlude with Jack enabled him to come to terms with it all.   Ennis thought back often of that time over the few months after his meeting with Jack.   Alma, on a certain level, now knew the reason for Ennis’ physical and emotional distance from her, but wasn’t yet ready to face it.  
  
With the help of some of the neighboring ranchers and a few hired hands, the cattle were brought down to winter pasture, and preparations for winter feeding were completed. The hay had been harvested, baled and stored; the corn turned into silage, some left standing for the cattle to graze on. Ennis and his neighbors had helped each other with these things and would share in them throughout the winter. Between his land and his granddaddy’s old government grazing permits, they’d had quite a bit of land for grazing and growing feed. The calves had been sold to feedlots; and even though they’d lost a few due to disease and predation, they’d done well this year; and would show a small profit when he and his Ma did the books at year’s end.   Most of the money would go toward paying off the bank notes and to next season's cycle.

Ennis stopped for a smoke break, taking off his work gloves and tucking them under his arm, and leaned up against a fence post.  He allowed himself a few moments of satisfaction at a job well done.  He loved this place; it was hard, physical work, and not only did he put his back into it, but his heart and soul too. When the day was done, it was the kind of work that gave him a sense of accomplishment and pride, a connection with the earth. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else. He squinted up into the blustery sky, against the raw gusts of wind.  _Feels like snow_ , he thought, making note of its grey color, feeling the sharpness of the cold air in his lungs, cold enough to see his breath.

He shook out a cigarette from the pack he had in his shirt pocket, and brought it to his lips, cupping his hand around the end as he lit it with Jack’s lighter, the blue flame rising up strong and true, even in the gusts of wind.  He knew he had made the right decision to be with Jack now.  
  
_Jack would’ve hated to miss out on the fall roundup,_ Ennis thought to himself.  But at least he’d be home for spring calving, and to take the cattle up to the high pasture to graze in the summer, Ennis hoped. _Jack, just get yourself home._ He finished his cigarette, turned up the collar of his old barn jacket against the cold wind, and headed back toward the house.  He had to talk to Alma.

 

* * *

Once Jack returned from Hawaii, he rejoined the recon teams who resumed their monitoring and disruption of supplies coming down the Ho Chi Minh trail. The time spent with Ennis in Hawaii gave him the strength to keep going.

During Tet, Viet Cong soldiers stormed the highland towns of Banmethout, Kontum and Pleiku, and they then simultaneously invaded thirteen of the sixteen provincial capitals of the heavily populated Mekong Delta. Their strategy caught the Americans off guard during a time when they were short manpower due to the celebration of the Tet holiday. All able bodied men who could shoot were pressed into service. The U.S. Embassy in Saigon was invaded.

The Village of Dinh Lang, Special Forces Camp - Laos/North Vietnam Border - March 1968

The village of Dinh Lang was located in an area of Montagnyard villages and coffee plantations, near an old French fort, about seven miles from the Laotian border, at the northernmost portion of South Vietnam. The camp was a Special Forces outpost of the Civilian Irregular Defense Force, whose purpose it was to keep watch on enemy infiltration along the border and to protect the local population.  It had been Jack’s and the teams’ job to train and advise them.   Just outside the village, the Special Forces had constructed an airstrip.   Jack's team had since moved to another camp.  
  
There were reports of noises, sounds of engines idling, and trip flare booby traps having been set off.  In the early morning hours, North Vietnamese Army tanks approached the barbed wire fencing of the camp, setting off trip flares, illuminating them for an instant to the guards in the observation posts.  They were able to hold off the first tanks with recoiless rifle fire; but were soon overrun.

 

* * *

 

The SOG team was sent to inspect the village and look for survivors, and Lonnie and Jack patrolled the camp, M-16s at the ready, stepping over the charred bodies of the dead, covering their faces with bandanas in an unsuccessful attempt to block out the stench of burned and decaying flesh in the aftermath of battle.  Men, women, children, young, old, their livestock, soldier, civilian – Death had been indiscriminate.  Man’s destructive versus creative force nowhere more sharply delineated than in times of war.

What had happened to this camp, their former home. The name of the village, Dinh Lang, meant "communal house" in Vietnamese. These were the people they’d lived with for months, years even, trained to defend themselves, people they soldiered side-by-side with, people who welcomed them and shared what little they had with them. _They helped us further our objectives, whatever they were._ Jack didn’t know anymore.   He had to wonder if they should have ever come here in the first place, and just left bad enough alone.  Jack and Lonnie advanced cautiously until they came upon a small Buddhist temple, still standing amidst the ruin, the graceful upturned pagoda corners of its roof adorned with benevolent dragons.   They stopped for a moment and listened; the temple appeared to be empty.  They heard nothing but the metallic tinkling of the bronze bells that were hanging under the eaves, their gentle sound carried on a sudden breeze.  
   
_Yea, though I walk through the vale of the shadow of death . . ._ Jack thought, suddenly recalling one of the psalms his mother taught him.  His mother believed in the Pentecost, Ennis’ family was Methodists; he’d never given any of it too much thought until he came here. He’d had opportunity to observe Buddhist ritual during the time he’d spent in this camp; and in his most basic understanding of it found common ground in the tenets not so different from those he’d been taught. For every action, a consequence; tolerance, the cycle of life and rebirth. _These people helped us, we've got to help them._

War was ugly, if he’d had it to do all over again, he didn’t know if he’d be able, knowing what he now knew and seeing what he’d seen. He turned his thoughts instead to the Montagnyards and their families, and the Laotian refugees that had escaped to the camp. Amidst all of this ugliness and evil, you took what little good you could find.  Killin’ another man, enemy or not, was the hardest thing he’d ever done.  Harder still to reconcile with everythin’ he’d been taught. But he'd learned how.  He’d been so gung-ho at first, so naïve. Something to prove.  Served in the Army, followin’ in the footsteps of his daddy and his granddaddy before him, a family tradition. Maybe he thought he’d win his father's respect this way, he didn’t know.  
  
The refugees had been herded together and detained outside of the camp, in need of food and water, in the confusion, noone knowing if there were Viet Cong among them.  He’d seen and heard of too many soldiers losing their heads and doing the unspeakable.  
  
_Not on my watch,_ Jack thought, as he set about determinedly, concentrating on the basic training in humanitarian aid he had been given.  Would this make up for what was done here.   He and Lonnie distributed food, water and clothing to the upturned hands and cacophony of voices, expectant faces of children, many crying, many in shock.  Lonnie planned to go to medical school when he was done with the war. They were able to give immunizations for communicable diseases to the weakened group.  What had they done to deserve all of this. He spoke to them as best as he could to find out if they were friend or enemy, and of course, at this point, none were the enemy.  
  
A little boy, who  looked to be about five years old, ran towards Jack, charging into him, grabbing him 'round the leg.  
  
"Whoa, whoa, little man, where you goin'?"  Jack asked gently, scooping him up in his arms and carrying him.  
  
How could human beings believe there was some otherwordly place called Hell when it was right here on Earth.  
  
When their work was done, they were to meet at the airstrip for helicopter pickup and return to the base.

 

* * *

  
  
The helicopter was preparing to land when it was hit from behind by an RPG. The impact pushed the tail into the rotor blades, causing it to crash to the ground and burst into flames.  Jack, Lonnie and the others ran to the downed chopper, kicking open the pilot’s doors.   K.E. and the co-pilot were strapped in; Jack cut the straps of their harnesses and hauled K.E. out by the collar of his burning jacket with all his might, rolling him out onto the ground to put out flames, in a rain of AK fire.   K.E. was only semi-conscious, but aware of Jack pulling him out of the cockpit, and the sounds, like settin’ off firecrackers in the backyard with his Daddy when he and Ennis was kids.  
  
Jack heard the steady beat of full auto AK fire, the crack of bullets hitting the trees, felt them rush past him, he was out in the open.  
  
"Go! Didi mau! Quickly!" Jack hollered to the ‘yards, motioning for them to head for the nearby trenches, sandbags and bunkers.  
  
He then instinctively dropped to the ground, his body covering K.E.’s, but not before he was knocked back from the impact of a bullet ripping through his right thigh.   In the confusion, with all the adrenalin surging through his body, what happened didn’t register at first. Jack's mind raced; it was all very surreal, seemed to be happening in slow motion.  
  
_Holy fuck, I’m hit_ , he thought when he felt the searing pain and realized he'd been shot.   He dragged K.E. into the bunker.  
  
In the next minutes, or hours, Jack couldn’t tell, they’d lost all track of time, the bunker shook as it was slammed with mortar rounds again and again, cement crumbling around them. He dragged K.E. on his rain poncho to a protected area, keeping him lying as flat as possible as Lonnie had instructed him. Lonnie checked K.E.’s vital signs, and his airway; his breathing wasn’t obstructed.  Lonnie’s job was to stage and stabilize the wounded until they could be evacuated.  He had to make judicious use of the meager medical supplies he had available.  
  
Jack radioed for dust-off; the medevac choppers wouldn’t be able to land until after the fighting had ceased, but would hover until it was safe.

"Jack." K.E. called softly.  "Jack."

"Rest now."  Jack said, gentling him, trying to keep him calm. "You're gonna be all right."

Saying it helped Jack to calm himself. Jack was beginning to feel light-headed and cold, and in truth, he had no idea whether any of them were going to be all right.  He was bleeding heavily.

"I was so wrong about you. You're a better man than me, Jack Twist." K.E. continued as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He’d come to, mutter something, then pass out again.

"You got any idea what’s he talkin’ about?" Lonnie asked.  Jack was at a loss for words.  
  
Lonnie cut away the material of Jack’s pant leg so he could examine the wounds to Jack’s thigh, simple entry and exit wounds, exit wound much larger, but a clean path. Jack was lucky; he didn’t appear to have a fracture or arterial damage, but there was no way to be sure of the extent of his injuries until they got him to a hospital. K.E. on the other hand, was not so lucky and the co-pilot unluckier still; he didn't make it. K.E. appeared to have a concussion, possible fractured ribs and an open fracture of the left tibia, or shin bone, which would require surgery.  Probably injuries to his back as well, so it was best that he be moved as little as possible.  He had serious burns of varying degrees on his arms and legs, but his flight jacket and body armor, and Jack's quick action, had saved him from a lot of it.  Lonnie applied pressure bandages to Jack’s wounds, the best they could do until they could be evacuated.   Jack wore no underwear; none of them did, in this humid, jungle climate.   He pressed his hand into the nearest pulse point, Jack’s groin, applying pressure to stop the bleeding; touching Jack in such an intimate place making his own pulse quicken.  
  
The rodeo cowboy from Wyoming was strong and beautiful, inside as well as out, and he was a survivor.  He’d be going back home to the ones who loved him.  They’d become good friends. He remembered when Jack first joined the team as the new guy. They'd given him hell in the beginning, but he’d proven himself to them all back then.  
  
_Pay attention, you’ve got more wounded to attend to_ , Lonnie chided himself. There was something about being around Jack that always made him lose his concentration, and forget, momentarily, about everything else. Sometimes, at night, thoughts of Jack would enter into his mind, the kind that he used to have about his fiancee Denise back home.  Jack had some minor burns on his hands, which Lonnie treated and bandaged.  
  
Lonnie cut off most of K.E.’s clothing and dressed his burns with gauze bandages, bandaged and splinted his broken leg, propped him up so he was leaning slightly to one side and covered him with the poncho liner, got an IV with antibiotic started. He placed the IV bag underneath K.E.’s shoulder, his weight on it would distribute the fluids. He still had to check on Jack again.  
  
A voice shouted in Vietnamese for them to come out.   Some did, and as they surrendered, Jack flinched as he heard the sound of the gunshots, squeezing his eyes shut tight and biting his lower lip, knowing they were all summarily executed.

"Jesus Christ." Lonnie breathed.  
  
_It can’t end here, not now, not when Ennis swore to me we’d be together_ , Jack thought, remembering the things they’d said to each other at the airport in Honolulu.  _We ain't gonna die here_.  He had to keep up his end of the bargain now.  Ennis’ old bloodstained shirt from Brokeback was still in his rucksack.  
  
The shelling continued. The NVA attacked again and came into the bunker; the soldiers threw a shower of grenades into the bunker before they entered, and by some miracle they exploded harmlessly. Jack and Lonnie emptied their magazines into them, and their fear, hate and rage with it. They heard the sound of planes overhead.

"Here comes Puff the Magic Dragon, not a moment too soon." Lonnie said, not without a little irony, referring to the nickname of the AC-47 gunship planes that would send the North Vietnamese Army into retreat.

Jack managed a tense laugh. "Never thought I’d be so glad to hear that." he said, relieved.

It became very quiet; the attack was over. Jack sat down, his back up against the cold concrete, and stretched his injured leg out before him. It was really starting to ache now.

Once K.E. was taken care of, Lonnie came over to further assess Jack’s condition, helping him out of his armored vest, loosening his clothing, unbuttoning his jacket.  The greatest risks were for Jack and K.E. to go into shock from blood and fluid loss, and infection.  
  
"Jack? You with me, bud’?" Jack could hear Lonnie saying, seemingly off in the distance.

"Still with ya, Lon." Jack answered, smiling at Lonnie weakly. "How’s K.E.?"

"He’s hangin’ in, thanks to you." Lonnie had helped Jack to lie down on another rain poncho until he could determine if the shock of impact had rendered any secondary injuries, splinted and elevated Jack’s leg, wrapped the liner around him as a blanket, tried to keep Jack alert and talking.

"How’s the pain?"

"Hurts like a bastard."

"You’ll have to stand it, Jack, for a little while longer, till the medevac choppers get here." Lonnie said. Jack needed to stay alert; Lonnie only had morphine in his kit and he wasn’t going to go down that road with Jack if he could help it. K.E. neither, with the possibility of breathing difficulties or a collapsed lung. They could always give them something in the medevac chopper or at the hospital, once they were out of harm’s way.  Heroin had bedeviled his younger brother Gus for years, made him do things Lonnie never thought Gus was capable of and nearly killed him, until he finally kicked it.  Lonnie wasn’t going to be the one to introduce Jack to Morpheus; for some guys over here, it had turned out to be love at first sight.  If the pain became really unbearable for Jack, he’d reconsider.

"Sorry Jack, I know you tried to get one a those million dollar wounds so’s you could go home, but I hate ta tell ya that they’ll patch this one up and send ya right back out here again with the rest of us slobs."  Lonnie kidded him.  
  
Inwardly, his mind screamed, _Where the hell are the choppers_ , everything that could go wrong with the wounded men tumbling over and over in his mind.

Jack was restless, wanted to get up on his feet, but Lonnie discouraged him.

"Jack, you gotta stay put, you might have other injuries from the impact of that bullet. It’s best to lie down." Lonnie insisted. "You’re gonna be fine, good as new, you’ll be able to come to my weddin’ back in New York." he joked.

"Wouldn’t miss it." Jack said, and smiled weakly.

It all started innocently enough, two fellow soldiers embracing in the joy of having survived another day.  But then Lonnie looked into Jack’s handsome, soot-and-mud streaked face, his eyes searching Jack’s, and the next thing he knew, he was kissing him, unabashedly, and feeling the gentle scratch of Jack’s rough stubble as Jack kissed him back. Lonnie had never kissed another man before, and it felt so good.

"Lon," Jack said hesitantly, and pulled away; it was Ennis he knew he loved. But he had grown very close to Lonnie in the time he’d been here, and as he looked into Lonnie’s kind, dark eyes, he couldn’t help but kiss him back. They held each other for a time, and then Lonnie touched Jack’s cheek, and went back to monitoring K.E.  In the distance, they heard the welcome sound of the medevac helicopters.

Lonnie and Miep Harry, one of the Montanyards, moved Jack and K.E. to stretchers and helped them get aboard the Hueys with the rest of the wounded.  The stretchers were stacked three high.  Jack was exhausted; 24 hours had passed since they'd arrived at the village for the search and rescue.  They were taken to the 95th Evac Hospital in Da Nang, and K.E. was later sent to the U.S. Army Hospital in Yokohama, Japan, where they had the expertise to treat his burns.   A medic set Jack up on an IV with antibiotic immediately, and gave him something for the pain.  Jack felt the slight sting as the needle entered the vein in his left arm, and closed his eyes as the pain medication kicked in and the arms of sleep enveloped him.

 

* * *

  
Grace got the news about K.E. by telephone; it was better than a knock on the door or the ring of the doorbell. The phone meant he was still alive.  The rest they could deal with.  She felt numb, and sat down in the armchair by the telephone; half expecting the call, half in shock from getting it.  
  
Ennis came into the room, and noticing his mother's expression, asked "What is it, Ma."

"It’s K.E." she said. "He’s been badly hurt in a helicopter crash. Jack saved his life, pulled him out in time."

"Sonofabitch." Ennis said.  
  
Jack’s mother called the Del Mars to let them know about Jack.

 

* * *

   
   
"Jack."  
  
When Jack came to after surgery, he slowly recognized Lureen's face, as his eyes adjusted to the light in his hospital room. He had been dreaming, about riding ShyAnne, his bay mare, in the grass of an early dew morning just as the sun was coming up.   ShyAnne galloped flat out, hooves pounding over the earth, carrying him somewhere as fast as she could; any faster and Jack thought she might fly.  He stirred reluctantly as Lureen said his name, wanting to return to the dream.  
  
Jack wondered if he’d be able to do physical labor again, ride a horse as easily as he once did.  These things were so second nature to him, and he’d be condemned to living a half life if he couldn’t return to them.  He couldn’t wait to see ShyAnne, saddle her up and take her our for a ride; it was one of the first things he wanted to do once he returned home.  But Jack almost felt he had no right to expect anything more than being alive; with what had happened to K.E. and the others, he knew he’d been favored enough already.  
  
"You'll be fine with physical therapy." Lureen told him.

"And K.E.?" Jack asked.  
  
"He'll make it." was all she would say.  
  
"Where're my cigarettes?  I need a smoke."  Jack said.  
  
"Gone, out with the trash.  No smoking, it'll intefere with your healing.  Too bad about the nicotine fit."  Lureen said.  
  
"Oh yeah?  And what about yours?"  Jack shot back with a grin.  
  
"I'm not the one in the hospital now, am I."  Lureen said with a wink, and left.

Alone, and for the first time since he'd been in Vietnam, Jack cried.  Tears of grief, joy, guilt, anger, remorse, regret, and relief.  He cried for all the times he hadn’t been able to.  Lureen came back, and stopped as she overheard Jack from outside the door.  She stood there for a moment, closed her eyes as a wave of compassion washed over her; then turned and left, giving Jack his time alone.  She came back again a bit later to give him something to help him sleep per doctor's orders.  And he slept deeply, for the first time in a long while.  
  
Jack’s x-rays revealed an incomplete fracture of the right femur, secondary to the gunshot wound, where the bullet had grazed it, but no bullet or bone fragments to complicate the injury. There was the possibility of nerve damage and chronic pain, but with six months of physical therapy and rehabilitation, he was expected to make a full recovery.

 

* * *

    
Jack was taken out of combat.  He was now what those in active combat referred to derisively as a Rear Echeleon Mother Fucker, or an REMF in Army acronym, a short timer, 90 days short in fact, 89 days and a "wake-up", the day he’d be going home.  Goddamn Army and its names for everythin'.   It was a most reviled but at the same time, a most desirable position to be in.   He was later shipped back to the States, landing at McChord Air Force Base in Washington.  He would live in the barracks until his honorable discharge, pushing paper at a desk job for his unit in Fort Lewis, Washington.  
  
Sage, Wyoming - March 1968  
  
Ennis did his best to explain his feelings to Alma.  
  
"Ennis, I’m going to go stay with my folks for awhile." Alma said.  Ennis didn’t try to convince her otherwise.  
  
"If you're sure that’s what you want." he said.

"Ennis, you know it is, as well as I do.  This isn’t what you want, and it sure ain’t enough for me.  I’ll take Alma Jr. with me for the time bein’, and I won’t stand in the way a your seein’ her.  We’ll work out some kind of arrangement.  Just because it didn’t work out ‘tween us is no reason to have it affect her."  
  
Ennis’ eyes filled with tears, but Alma had done all her crying.  
  
"Alma, I swear, I never meant ta hurt ya in all this." he said.  
  
Alma didn’t answer; just turned and left.  There had never been much fireworks during their marriage, no sense settin' any off now.  It wasn’t his fault, she knew, and he'd been a good father to Junior.  She’d forgive Ennis in time, but not today.  Today, she needed her anger to give her the strength to leave him.

 

* * *

  
  
Years later, when a monument would be built to commemorate those who died and those still missing, Ennis, Jack and K.E. would make the trip to Washington, DC to visit the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. Jack and K.E. looked up the names of friends and comrades in the directories. Jack looked for Lonnie’s name in the directory, found the location. He traced the letters of the name "Alonzo Vincent Iannelli, Jr." on the black granite with his fingers, fighting back tears. Why did he make it out and not Lonnie?  He and K.E. owed Lonnie their lives, and it was humbling to think of it. K.E. and Jack laid flowers at the base of the monument.  
  
Lonnie had been fatally wounded by an AK round in the chest in another attack as he was trying to pull a wounded soldier to safety, while Jack was recovering in the hospital.  Jack felt the anguish of not having been there with him; he’d always wonder if there was something he could have done. When it had sometimes become too overwhelming, Ennis was his rock. Jack had seen glimpses of Ennis’ boundless patience and steadiness up on Brokeback, and now he knew it for sure.  
  
In the beginning, when Jack would awaken in the middle of the night, Ennis would sit up him, sometimes into the early hours of the morning, and stroke his troubled forehead, Jack’s head resting in his lap, his hair damp with sweat, and reassure him that there was nothing he could have done.  Ennis would whisper to Jack that it was all right now, as many times as it took, until one day it was better, if not totally all right again. _Let it be now, let be._  
  
Ennis would put on a pot of coffee as the sun came up, and he and Jack would talk, until Jack finally rested.  The sex they shared reinforced that Jack was very much alive.

The old adage was true; Time had indeed healed Jack and K.E., first their physical wounds, and their psychic wounds made bearable eventually. But Time had also created a bond between them. K.E. realized now the measure of a true man, and it was not so much about blustery machismo or who a man decided to love, but more Jack’s and Lonnie's quiet strength and depth of courage.  But they were not the only courageous ones; K.E. had displayed courage of his own.

Ennis stood between them as they silently gazed at the monument, his hands on their shoulders as they contemplated the meaning of the 58,000-plus names listed there.  He squeezed their shoulders, and they could see their reflections in the polished granite.  Ennis, with his brother on one side, his life partner on the other; past, present and future, as the wall symbolized.  
  
Ennis reflected for awhile; thankful to have them both still with him.


	21. Please Come To Boston

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One summer, Jack and Ennis visit with Jack's close friends from the Army.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written for the Summer 2009 Water and Sun challenge.

Jack had kept in touch with most of his old Army buddies, to see how they were doin', because that’s the way he was.  Steve, Nate and even a letter once from Geoff in Australia.  Most of them seemed to be doing all right.  After a phone call from Steve, who Jack said was now living in Massachusetts and working as a machinist at Bristol Metal Works, an informal reunion was planned "down the Cape" as Steve had put it.

"Hey Ennis, how'd ya like to go to New England?" Jack asked Ennis out of the blue one morning, and Ennis knew that meant Jack must've been feelin’ some wanderlust, and that he was itchin’ to rove about again.   Ennis could almost see the wheels turnin’ in Jack's head.  Could be a relatively short jaunt up into the mountains, or someplace further, you just never knew.  This time, it happened to be halfway across the country, all the way to the East Coast. 

Jack never did subscribe to the notion that you lived your life accordin' to someone else's plan until your golden years; life didn't always wait for ya, and he'd seen his folks scrimp and save for some unknown day in the future that never did come for too long, not livin' in the present, with nothin' ta show for it at the end, and so as soon as he was old enough, at about seventeen, he left home and his traveling life began.  He'd already done more 'n most people his age, and he always liked havin' a safe place to fall when he got back and before he felt the need to set off again.  Jack's freewheeling sense of adventure was one of the things that the less traveling inclined Ennis so admired about him.  Ennis also knew that there was a part of Jack, whether he would admit to it or not, or if he even was fully aware of it, that secretly craved stability, as much as he protested against it. Because home and family, and their relationship, meant too much to Jack for it to be otherwise.  Ennis smiled and shook his head. 

August was the time when they usually tried to pull together some kind of a trip anyway.  If it turned out to be too busy at the ranch, Ennis could stay at home and Jack could go and have a visit with his old friends. Ennis knew he’d always return.  Without thinking, he touched the simple gold band on his left ring finger, fidgeting it around with his thumb, hand-crafted and hammered into shape, that he and Jack now both wore.  He didn't wear much jewelry, just this ring, and maybe his good watch if he got dressed up for a special occasion.  He was a man who worked with his hands; and before work got too rough an' before his hands got too dirty, he'd put it on its chain and wear it around his neck, if he had on a shirt or not, keep it close to his heart. The only times he didn't wear it was when he was workin' with farm equipment and engines, or doin' electrical work.

"Where in the hell is he livin’ now?"

"I dunno, someplace in Massachusetts.  Someplace called South Dartmouth or Fairhaven, I think he said.  Or maybe that was the directions."

"Thought you tol’ me he was from Louisiana?"

"He is, but he's got people up North too, I guess.  Anyways, we can spend a couple days with Stevie, leave before we wear out our welcome, and then maybe have some time to ourselves, maybe visit Boston?  Never been and always wanted to.  Whaddaya say?"

"He still married?"

"Divorced, now, I think. Doubt he'll ever make it to the altar again after that." Jack teased.

"Well, all right, when you figure everything out, you let me know." Ennis said, laughing, Jack always made things into an adventure.  Maybe he could get K.E. or Clare to cover, and Tom could keep an eye on things too.

"Hell, K.E.'s prob'ly comin'.  If he isn't invited, he should be." Jack said.

They talked about it some more while they did the dishes that evening; Ennis washed and Jack dried.  Jack snapped the damp dishtowel against Ennis' backside when he was finished drying.

"Oh yeah, Twist?" Ennis said, eyes full of mischief, and he pinned Jack up against the refrigerator door, and in playful retaliation, pulled Jack's shirt out from his pants, and slipped a hand underneath, tickling him in between kisses and Jack's laughter, Jack breathless and sides aching.  Jack hadn't put up much resistance anyway; Ennis was that place for him. They'd figure somethin' out. 

 The trip was planned for some time in early September.

 

Massachusetts - Late August 1978

The rented a car at Logan Airport in Boston, checked the map, and drove down to Steve's place first thing in the morning, then headed out for the Cape.

"Good ta see ya again, Jack." Steve said, giving Jack a bearhug, when they arrived.

"Hey, Cap'n." Jack said.   Jack introduced Ennis.

"Stevie - this is Ennis Del Mar.  Ennis, Steve Therrien."

"Good to meet ya, Ennis." Steve greeted Ennis warmly, thought the world of Jack.

"This guy's saved my ass way too many times." Jack joked, Steve's arm around him, as Steve shook Ennis' hand.  Jack had been open about his relationship with Ennis.

"Everyone here yet?" Jack asked.

"Almost. Nate's here, brought his wife. Even Geoff is s'posed to make it. He's in the States now." Steve said.

"Yeah? No shit." Jack said. "Good for him."

"Somethin' to drink? We got beer . . . and beer." Steve said.

"Beer's fine." Ennis and Jack laughed. 

The function was held in a private dining room at Mike's Restaurant, where they had steamed clams and mussels, a platter of stuffed quahogs, linquini with clam sauce, fresh baked haddock and scallops, lobsters and steaks, and a small bar with plenty to drink. After dinner, and a few words from Jack's former CO, Ennis was regaled with tales and stories of past exploits and old times together, over drinks and shots, cigarettes and a couple tables cleared off for cards, the Red Sox in town and tickets to a Red Sox vs. Baltimore game, baseball stats, pitching staff, the Sox first in the standings and sure to win the tight pennant race, this year - and who got married, who got divorced, who was fuckin' who, and about a half a dozen toasts to Lonnie.

The Sox beat the Orioles 5-4 in that game, and they would all later curse Bucky Fucking Dent, but all in good fun, for his 7th inning three-run homer as the Red Sox lost to the Yankees in a tie-breaking one-game playoff that year. 

They slept in the next mornin', tried to shake off the fuzziness of a mild hangover when they did wake up. Ennis put on a pot of coffee.

"I'm gettin' too old fer this shit." Jack groaned, sitting at the breakfast bar, head in hands, and Ennis chuckled, wasn't feelin' too much better.

"You 'n' me both." he said, setting down a cup of strong black coffee in front of Jack, poured one for himself. 

* * *

Steve invited them out for a day out on Narragansett Bay on his sportsfishing boat, the L'Acadie.

"You guys wanna go out fishin' for some blues?"

"She's a beaut." Ennis said, admiring the boat, a sleek 37-footer twin diesel convertible.

"Yep, she keeps me outta trouble." Steve smiled.

Steve had a side business taking small parties of nature lovers and sportsfishermen out on the boat on charter excursions which he ran with another good friend, so that he could do what he loved, be out on the ocean. He sometimes took the boat to the Gulf or the Bahamas in winter.  Jack was glad to see that Steve was happy.

"We get lucky, we might even see us some whales." Steve said. When they reached a certain place at the Stellwagen Bank National Marine Sanctuary, Steve cut the engine.

"No need ta chase 'em, let 'em come to us." he said.

They waited in the quiet and stillness, just the sounds of the water softly lapping up against the sides of the boat, a seabird or the comforting, foggy navigational warning of a buoy bell somewhere off in the distance, the boat gently rocking and drifting on the calm sea, and sure enough, from up on the tower they saw and heard the spouts, and the graceful breaches and lobtailing of a group three humpbacks, their clicks and whistles, and songs echoing around them. One even swam under the boat, to their delight, and as they went over to the side of the boat to see, the whale seemed to look right at them as he rose to the surface. They felt a sense of awe and of grace that another living being had come that close.

Just before dusk, Steve pulled the boat into the South Wharf Marina in Padanaram Harbor and docked, a new moon barely hours old, at only a thin sliver of crescent, her night side lit faintly with earthshine, and the lights of the Village, or Ponagansett, as it was originally called, made streaks of light that glimmered across the dark water. Steve had caught a large bluefish that he would sell to his favorite local restaurant, and it had been a great day.

* * *

Seems Nate and his wife had the same idea; coming out to visit, and making a little vacation of it.  Ennis and Jack were able to spend a day with them when they all went down to Block Island and Newport, Rhode Island for another day on Steve's boat, Ennis and Jack, Nate and his wife Rissie, Steve and his girlfriend Shelley, and Geoff.  Ennis and Jack were more than happy to help crew, and when they docked in Newport, after radioing the harbor master, Steve backed the boat into her slip, with Ennis' help as a lookout, dock lines and fenders at the ready, and Jack tossed a stern line onto a dock piling, stepped out onto the dock and they helped tie up, securing the boat to the dock with cowboy bowlines and hitches; Jack looking like a born sailor in a navy blue baseball cap, white v-necked tee shirt and khakis, then it was off for lunch and some sightseeing. The sea was a little choppy on the return trip, less calm than it was when they first went out, but when Jack looked to the sky, he saw the thins wisps of high altitude cirrus clouds, in long, drawn-out streaks resembling carded wool, that only spoke of fair weather for many more hours to come. 

 _Cat's tail clouds to sailors; mare's tails blowin' across the sky in the wind to cowboys_ , he thought. He very ably climbed down the ladder stairs from the flying bridge and made his way 'round the boat to the galley to get something to drink, and looked around. Geoff was charming the ladies as they sunned themselves on the deck, and they had been talking about everything under the sun with the congenial Nate. Steve always remained sober; you had to respect the sea, never take her for granted, he'd said. Jack knew that Steve had learned some things the hard way. He glanced up to see Ennis, still up there on the flying bridge and listening on intently, as Steve appeared to be explaining something to him, probably more about piloting the boat. _Looks like some things never change_ , Jack thought and smiled, glad to know it. Ennis looked every bit the saltwater cowboy, with his sunny blond hair peeking out from under a baseball cap, wearing a tee shirt and cutoffs. Jack was glad to see him having fun and enjoying himself.

They waited at a drawbridge for some boats to pass through, and then continued on down the causeway, stopping for lunch at a place called The Laughing Gull.  Jack was dying to try some seafood. They sat outside at a weathered picnic table and under a striped umbrella, overlooking the navy blue North Atlantic that glinted in the sun, watching the boats and ships pass by at the Schooner Festival, the sailboats and magnificent double masted rigs of the schooners, cutting through the water. They watched them occasionaly through binoculars as they ate, then afterwards took a stroll over for a closer view. They ordered a lobster roll each, with french fries and coleslaw, an order of fried clams, and two ice-cold beers. The waitress, in a Boston Red Sox tee shirt and jeans, brought out their food - big chunks of pink lobster meat mixed with a little mayo and a spritz of lemon, nothin' else needed, in hotdog rolls that had been toasted in butter, and plump golden clams with bellies intact.

"Here you go." she smiled, setting down the red and white checkerboard paper baskets lined with waxed paper that contained their food, and lots of paper napkins.

"Sure know how to do things up right out here." Ennis said, putting ketchup on his fries. 

After lunch, they continued driving, windows down, through farmland that overlooked the Atlantic and river marshes, small farms with boundaries marked with low stone walls, in Westport. Not the size of Western ranches, and different, but beautiful just the same, with their own beauty.  Ennis thought it was paradise, you couldn't ask for more than the best of both worlds. The leaves on the trees were just starting to turn, pumpkins and cranberries matured in fields and bogs, soon to be harvested in the fall, dotting the landscape with color. Ennis found all the English and Native American names of the towns they drove through interesting. They passed a horse farm, cattle grazing, a farm selling goat cheese, vegetable stands selling tomatoes, sunflowers and native corn, bought some of the sweet butter-n-sugar corn and some of the goat cheese and crackers, and stopped in at a winery located in an old stone cotton mill. It was almost harvest time, and the Chardonnay grapes looked ripe on the vines, planted on slopes of limestone-rich rocky soil, and they tasted glasses of sparkling white wine out on the well-kept grounds, stretching out on white Adirondack chairs that overlooked the vineyards, bought a bottle of the wine. From the hill, you could see the ocean off in the distance, smell the salt and kelp in the air. A beautiful environment, Ennis thought.

If Ennis was at his best near mountains and earth, Jack's elements were the air and the sea. How that had happened, with Jack having been born landlocked in Wyoming, was a mystery to Ennis, but something came alive in Jack whenever he was near water.  The same thing happened to Ennis Del Mar.

Now most people, if they were to casually observe Jack and Ennis, would think that Jack was the gregarious one, Ennis the more reticent; and most times, that's how it was. But the truth was there were many times when Jack needed stillness and refuge, and he found that with Ennis. The rest of the quiet afternoon to near sunset was spent sea kayaking through the Westport River salt marsh trails, at high tide, through the reeds and around eelgrass beds on rented kayaks, leisurely and not many words needed between them, until they reached the calm, open ocean, and explored some of the rugged coastline.

* * *

 

Back at the guest house, Jack rummaged around in the cabinets until he found a well-used lobster pot to steam the corn.

"Gotta cook this up quick or it won't be near as good." he said. Ennis got a bottle opener from the drawer and took out from the small refrigerator a couple bottles of the lager they'd bought at the micro-brewery next door to the winery, opened them and set one down on the kitchen counter for Jack. Jack also found a bottle-green glass vase in one of the cabinets, filled it with warm water, trimmed the stems of the sunflowers they'd bought, and put them into it, setting it down on the table in the sitting area. Jack had commented about the beautiful gardens here, and the housekeeper would refresh this simple arrangement with flowers from the cutting garden, most every day, whenever she brought fresh linens.

They had picked up a half pound of freshly ground sirloin at the market and some potato salad from the deli in town on the way home, a couple of hotdogs and some rolls, and had hamburgers and hotdogs cooked on the grill on the patio, the aroma whetting their appetites, with the lettuce and sliced tomatoes, and buttered the corn-on-the-cob they'd bought at the farmstand. They ate dinner outside, sitting on the deck chairs, and Ennis remarked about Jack's Army buddies, and how it didn't seem to matter to them about his and Jack's relationship, how accepting of Jack, and their relationship, they had been.

"Helluva bunch a nice guys." he said.

If Ennis had any doubts about meeting Jack's old friends, they had been put to rest right away.  Not always the most comfortable makin' chit-chat with people he didn't know well, he found Jack's friends to be unpretentious and down-to-earth, and they made him feel right at home.  Not that he didn't have a strong sense of who he was now - he did, and gettin' stronger all the time; he could only be who he was. It was just that he could never see the point of sayin' more than what needed to be said, although he was startin' to see the value of it, somewhat. He felt he knew them all a little bit anyway; he'd overheard Jack's animated telephone conversations, been a sounding board as Jack considered what to write to them in letters and cards, listened as Jack read their responses in return, knew Jack's stories and descriptions, had seen the photographs of wives and children.

"They know me, Ennis, noone could know me better, 'cept you. They've always had my back; and me, theirs.  When you've been through what we all have together, everythin' else's just on the surface. Ya give people a chance, they'll surprise ya sometimes. Sometimes the ones ya least expect."

"Yeah, and sometimes they don't." Ennis said.

"Too true." Jack laughed.

"You know I'd never steer ya wrong, Ennis; I'd a never mentioned it if I didn't think things would turn out all right. When you ever gonna trust me?" Jack kidded Ennis, knowing that Ennis trusted him deeply.

"'Sides, we don't play second fiddle to noone, right?" 

"Nope." Ennis smiled.

Later, they walked out across the breakwater that connected the island to the mainland, out to Goose Neck Point, and watched the crashing waves, feeling like they were at the ends of the earth; nothing but water and horizon as far as they could see, took off their sneakers and walked along the beach, their feet sinking down a little bit into the damp sand as they walked, sandpipers and plovers darting in and out of the surf. They loved the beach. It was chilly, but cozy, and Ennis zipped up his hooded sweatshirt, put his arm around Jack, Jack wearing a windbreaker over a navy blue pullover sweater. Birds were starting to group together for their annual fall migrations, and flew overhead in large flocks. Jack looked through binoculars at comorants gathered on large rocks farther out to sea, and then out to the lighthouse, gulls and terns laughed and called from above as they patrolled up and down the beach, searching for food. It was slightly overcast and a bit windy, but wonderful and invigorating, summer transitioning into fall, and they continued out to see the island's long abandoned WWII lookout towers.

In the evening, they returned to the little blue-shuttered guest house where they were staying, tires crunching over a driveway of crushed seashells the sun had bleached white, shake shingles worn grey from the weather and sea air, and with the blue hydrangeas and fragrant beach roses that were seen everywhere here growing in the border out front. Homemade toll house chocolate chip cookies were waiting for them, with a note that said Suite Dreams, compliments of the guest house, and Jack put on some water for some hot tea; made them both a cup and they drank it sitting out on the deck, eating the cookies and writing out some postcards, also courtesy of the blue-shuttered guest house, to send to Junior and Bobby, before they snuggled up together in bed. The suite had a wood-burning fireplace, and they made a fire to take the edge off the damp night air.

"Finally, some time alone with ya." Ennis said, kissing Jack and pulling him close, and they were lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sounds of the waves coming in through the open window, after having some comfortable and relaxing sex, without worry or care, food for the soul.

* * *

Ennis got up early, as usual. He was going to take some quiet time, as he so often liked to do, this time a morning walk to the private pier out back of the guest house. Most mornings, they would go to the dining room or out to the garden, depending upon the weather's whims, for a New England breakfast, which one morning had included a deliciously crusty, made-from-scratch red flannel hash with fried eggs and cornbread, made from a New England boiled dinner; on another, a creamy-centered lobster omelet. He drew back the the curtains, opened the sliding glass door, looked outside.

"Be back soon." he whispered, bending down to kiss Jack, letting him enjoy a luxurious sleep in the warm, comfortable bed, in bed linens that still smelled as if they had been hung outside to dry in the salt air, got a sleepy, contented response from Jack in return, and went to shower. They didn't often get to enjoy the pleasure of early-morning sex lately, but they had this morning. He fumbled blearily for the light switch, turned on the water and was just about to step into the shower, the warm water's gentle hiss and steam filling the bathroom, and easing him awake and into the day. But Jack sneaked in behind him and grabbed a handful of Ennis' fine ass. "Hey!" Ennis yelled, startled awake, and turned to find Jack, with bed head hair and walkin' around butt naked, and a big silly grin on his face.

"Ya didn't think I was gonna let ya enjoy that pretty sunrise all by yer lonesome now, did ya?" Jack teased him.

"C'mere." Ennis said, pleased, as he smoothed Jack's unruly hair, taking him into his arms and kissing him deeply, feeling Jack's body against his.

"I love you so much." he told Jack. 

They watched the sun come up from the pier, the light turning the morning mist the colors of the sunrise, and then walked down to the Village, stopped at the bakery for two large coffees and a couple of still-warm blueberry muffins to go, and a Boston Sunday Globe. They walked back to the guest house, enjoyed the coffee and muffins while sitting along the edge of the pier, reading the sports section and the arts section. If they hurried, they still might be able to get some of that Sunday brunch after all. The Deer Hunter was playing at the local community theater, the Strand, and later, they took a walk downtown to see it, and afterwards, went for a pizza.  Jack said it was a pretty realistic portrayal. 

For dinner the next night, they went back to Mike's - sat at a cozy booth, illuminated by the warm glow from a votive candle, and they warmed themselves with two cups of New England-style clam chowder, and talked. Jack got the twin boiled lobsters for his entree and Ennis got the roast prime rib special, medium rare, and they split an order of onion rings. "Here, try this." Jack said, and cracked open a lobster claw, took out the plump flesh with his seafood fork, swirled it in drawn butter, and held it to Ennis' mouth. Ennis thought it tasted heavenly.

"Mmmmmm . . . ambrosia, the food of the Gods." Jack said, with mouth full as he took another bite himself.

"You got that right." Ennis said.

Later, they went to an outdoor music festival, James Taylor the headliner, sat down on a blanket on the grass, drank the sparkling wine out of plastic cups, had the herbed goat cheese on the crackers, and listened to the acoustic guitar chords float and travel, unencumbered, through the air. Jack lay on his side, leaning on his elbow and listened, Ennis sitting next to him. Nothing sounded as good as outdoor music.

Freedom Trail

They had walked the Freedom Trail their first full day in Boston, taking in the historic landmarks along the way, Boston Common, the Old North Church, the Paul Revere house, until they ended up back at the North End, Boston's Little Italy, where they were lucky enough to catch the parade for the annual Feast of St. Anthony festival. They thought it was amazing, and they followed the procession down the winding and narrow streets that passed shops and cafes, got caught up in the buoyant celebration of the crowds, were showered with confetti in green, white and red, the colors of the Italian flag, and ducked in for cappuccinos and gelati at a little shop on Hanover Street before catching up with the procession again.

They had another day to themselves in Boston, before they had to leave, did laundry and packed.  It had been one of their most memorable times away together.

* * *

Jack had only planned on resting his eyes for a bit, but ended up falling asleep on the flight home. He awoke to find Ennis scribbling on a napkin, drawing what looked like a mountain over the initials "J" and "E".

"What's that?" Jack asked him.

"Oh, nothin', just an idea for a cattle brand I had. The mountain, or the rafters of the house. The Rafter JE." Ennis said. "We'll have to register a brand for the ranch."

"I like it." Jack said.

"Figured ya might, with your initial first." Ennis teased him.

"Don't matter whose initial's is first.  But I still like it." Jack said, and smiled.


	22. All That Heaven Will Allow

Sage, WY – May 1969

Alma drove out to the ranch to pick up Alma Jr. after having spent the weekend with her father, but she also wanted to see Ennis, but whether partly from concern about him, partly from missing him, partly from force of habit, she wasn’t sure. Her date with Monroe had gone fine, but with the usual first date jitters on both sides. He’d taken her to the best restaurant in town. They’d made vague plans to see each other again, but so far she hadn’t heard anything from him, and she’d never asked. She needed to see Ennis. 

"Some more coffee, Alma?" Grace asked, a welcome interruption to her unsettling thoughts, but Alma couldn’t stay.

"No thanks, I’m fine." she said. "We really should be gettin' home, soon as Junior gets back.", as Grace sat down with her at the kitchen table.

"Well, they ought to be back here any time now." Grace said.

There was a commotion out front, and the sound of voices, and in burst Sarah-Jane and Jesse, faces flushed and happy from spending the day outside, then the sound of bootheels comin' up the front steps, and Ennis with Junior by the hand.  Behind him came a handsome man, tall, with black hair and eyes that you wouldn’t soon forget.

Ennis was a bit flustered when he first saw Alma.

"Alma." he said, regaining his composure, and made the introductions.

"Alma, this is Jack Twist; Jack, Alma."

"H’lo." Alma said.

"Pleased ta meet ya, ma'am." Jack said to her with a reserved smile, and a tip of his cowboy hat.

Ennis seemed distracted, but he looked well; it was a busy time at the ranch and would be from now till about November.  
  
_So that’s him._ Alma thought, as they regarded each other, each receiving the confirmation of whom they had been wondering about for so long. Jack seemed nice, gentlemanly; Ennis had never told her in so many words that Jack was the one, but somehow Alma felt that he must be. Ennis had a certain peacefulness and contentment about him now, no longer the restless man she once knew. She should be happy for them, and she was, in that tinged with sadness way one is when someone’s happiness makes them more keenly aware their own emptiness, on the outside looking in, and she felt the pain of seeing them together and happy.   Ennis was goin' on with his own life without her, and there was nothing to be done about it.  
  
Jack saw a woman quietly pretty, lost and confused, the course of her life having taken a sudden, uncharted turn and casting her adrift.   An innocent bystander caught up in something that she didn't fully understand, through no fault of her own.

 _"_ Well, I guess we should be goin’.  Come on, honey." Alma said, and held out her hand for Junior to take. "Let’s go home."  
  
She said her goodbyes and a nice-to-meet-you-Jack, and left with a lump in her throat, before she could cry.  Ennis didn’t know what to say, just watched her go.  
  
Jack came over and stood next to him, put his hand on his shoulder.  
  
"She'll find happiness again, one day."  he told him.  
  
_An' I sure as hell ain't steppin' aside again_.  Jack thought to himself.

 

* * *

  
 

Ennis went out to the paddocks to feed the cattle; some of the little calves were bawlin’ for their mammas.

"Hush up yer cryin’ now." Ennis said to them with a chuckle as he tossed in the hay to them.

Growin' up poor and hard times had made him not trust when things were goin’ too good, that meant the other boot was gonna drop sometime soon, and so he had to work harder, to be ready for when it did. He felt sometimes he could never let up, wished he could just relax and accept when things were goin’ good, without worrying about having it all taken away from him. Had all kinds of good advice for Jack, should follow it himself. He wondered if there was only so much happiness you could have in this life; it was best not to use it up too fast, or worse, waste it. He didn’t need to be told a second time as far as Jack was concerned.  
  
All them things he didn’t know.   Well, he was findin’ out about some of ‘em now.  Jack did what he had to do to survive, Ennis supposed; not the least of it probably feeling the pressure to conform, just as Ennis had back here, as well as finding some kind of comfort, bein' alone, Ennis thought to himself, with a wry chuckle _._   Lord knows, Ennis kept on doin' it with Alma long after any feelin's he did have for her were gone, sometimes asking her to turn over onto her stomach; and he'd have sex with her, thinkin' of Jack.    Ennis had been a regular at the Wolf Ears bar while Jack was gone, and a good lookin' blonde waitress there by the name of Cassie Cartwright had made it quite plain after her shift one night, at closin' time, when she came over and sat her pretty behind on his lap, that she was more than willin' to keep him company, married or not.  A sweet gal, but who eventually, Ennis knew, would want more than he could give, and so he'd never taken her up on her offer.  
  
"Closin' time, Cowboy."  she'd whispered, acknowledging the obvious for the both of 'em, that he couldn't be too happy at home if he was in this place most nights.  If only she'd known that what she had couldn't fix it.  
  
All this time, and he'd never stopped thinkin' of Jack.   He'd been afraid of holdin' on to Jack, but even more afraid of lettin' go.  Ennis didn't care anymore about the past.  He'd asked Jack if he could live with the daily reminder of his time over there and give the child the good life, love and care he deserved; and Jack had said noone with a lick of sense could ever forget anyway, might as well make the best of it, and raisin' Bobby was what he wanted to do.

It wasn’t the child’s fault. Ennis felt the weight of the adjustment the poor little boy would have to make, coming from a different culture, and being separated from his mother; he’d do the best he could to make it easier for Jack and Bobby. Wrenchin’ a calf away from his mamma could affect even the most hardened of ranchers.  
  
Lightning Flat, WY – May 1969

Jack sat his parents down at the kitchen table.

"I’m gonna need your help." he said. "I have a child, a boy, from when I was in Vietnam. I want to bring him home, have him stay here, until I can get back on my feet, get my own place with Ennis. I’d like to bring him here to live when he gets here, in this house, if I could. He can stay in my old room." Jack asked in earnest.

John Twist scoffed and shook his head, spitting into his coffee cup. He scowled at Jack from across the table; but spared them any of his commentary about queer sons and mixed race children.

"If y'all could keep an eye on him while I’m workin’ I’d appreciate it." Jack continued, forging on ahead and ignoring his father’s rudeness.

Jack’s mother said of course he could count on her help for whatever he needed.  
  
Sage, WY – May 1969

Before they could bring the cattle up to summer pastures, Ennis had to open up the bunkhouse for the season, do some repairs, bring in supplies and firewood, clear away the cobwebs and dust. They’d take the yearlings up first, this year’s calves and their mammas later, after they were weaned. He'd asked Jack if he wanted to go for a few days, and Jack had arranged to get the time off.

Ennis and Jack stopped in to get something to eat in town, after picking up their supplies.  Jack was wearing a black leather jacket, white shirt and a sterling silver bolo tie, its slide inlaid with turquoise and lapis lazuli stones, makin' his eyes look bluer than anyone’s ought to be allowed to.   Was drivin' a better truck; wearin' a nice lookin' watch too, drinkin' better whiskey.  Jack sure was acquirin' a taste for nice things.  
  
"Goddamn it, Ennis, life is too short not to enjoy yourself ever' once in awhile."  Jack'd told him once.  "When it comes ta money, yer tighter 'n the bark on a piss-elm tree sometimes.  Quit worryin', break down and buy yourself somethin' nice will ya, or I'll do it for ya."  
  
"Damn.  Can't believe I just said that.  Been hangin' around you for way too long."  Jack said, and Ennis had busted out laughing.  
  
Probably Jack was right.  He ought to start relaxin' and enjoyin' life more, and he planned to do just that, now that Jack was home.   Not that Jack was a spendthrift, because he'd grown up poor too, but he did tend to enjoy his money a little more than Ennis did.   But Jack would come to appreciate Ennis' practicality and sound business judgement, and come to rely on his advice, once they started workin' together.   They would grow to make a good team, each balancing the other.  
  
They were seated, and a waitress came over to take their orders; this was one whose eyes lingered on Jack, and Ennis listened on in amusement as he good-naturedly chatted and joked with her.  The one-two punch of Jack’s good looks and charm, and then, the coup de grace, what finally did ‘em in, that smile of his, never failed to amuse Ennis.   Jack seemed unfazed by it all, just saw plain old Jack Twist when he looked in the mirror.   Ennis thought Jack probably could sell anyone anything if he had a mind to.  
  
_Lord have mercy,_ he thought, chuckling.  
  
But those weren't the only things that made Jack beautiful in Ennis’ eyes, or why Ennis loved him.  Jack had a big heart, would give you his last dollar if he thought it would help you. He was open and outgoing, and even if he hadn’t had it easy growin’ up either, it had never tarnished his optimism. He was a dreamer in the best sense of the word, because he was a doer as well. He challenged Ennis’ thinkin’, took Ennis out his own head and thoughts whenever he was with him, and made him realize how things could be, not settle for how they were.  
  
Jack had ended up buyin' Ennis a fancy new watch for his birthday, to replace that worn out old ticker he had been wearin'.  
  
"What’re you grinnin’ at?" Jack asked, one of his long legs brushing up against Ennis’ ever so slightly under the table, but enough to let Ennis know what he was thinkin’.

"Nothin’, just you, ya bullshit artist." Ennis grinned.

"We gotta do somethin’ about this commutin’ situation." Jack said.

"I’m working on it." Ennis said. "How’s the job goin?"

"Not bad, Hank’s a decent guy to work for."

"Told the old man about us." Jack said.

"Oh yeah? How’d that go?" Ennis was skeptical.

"’Bout as well as could be expected." Jack shrugged.

"Why didn’t ya tell me?" Ennis asked. "I coulda stayed with ya, helped ya out or somethin’."

"I wouldn’t subject ya to my old man all at once, you gotta work up ta that gradually, build up a tolerance first." Jack said with a smirk, making Ennis laugh again.

"What’s goin’ on with Bobby?"

"Had an appointment with a lawyer last week." Jack said. "My folks are gonna help out too."

Jack was going to send money to Lureen to help with Bobby’s expenses. A good faith effort, the attorney said. Affidavits, petitions, support, temporary guardianship, all kinds of paperwork that was a blur to Jack. Lureen was taking care of the immigration matters at the U.S. Consulate in Saigon, getting Bobby his passport and exit visa.

 _"_ Who is this Lureen gal anyway? How do you know her? Can you trust her?" Ennis asked.

"Don’t know her that well at all, only met her but a handful a times, now that ya mention it." Jack realized.  
  
"She’s a nurse, from Texas originally.  She’s one of the people who helped me over there." Jack told Ennis. "Told her about us. Yeah, I trust her."

"Well, you’d know that better ‘n me." Ennis said. "I guess you learn who to trust pretty quick in a situation like that."

"Don’t worry, Ennis." Jack said. "She’s never asked for anythin’. I know what I’m doin’."

 

* * *

 

 

Ennis and Jack packed up their horses and mules, got the cattle dogs together, and Ennis loaded his .30-30 Winchester, hopin’ like hell he wouldn’t have to use it. Wolves and coyotes were magnificent creatures to his mind, the very embodiment of the natural world, but he had to protect his cattle. He slid the rifle into the scabbard strapped to Cigar Butt’s saddle.

Jack looked around as they made their ascent up into the Bear River Divide, just shaking his head in wonder at the beauty of the mountains.  They stopped for a few moments up at the next ridge so that Jack could fully take in the view of the river and canyons below them.    Jack leaned forward, resting his forearms on the pommel of his saddle, breathed in deeply as he admired the view.

"Can’t believe how much I missed this." he said.

"Thought ya might." Ennis said and smiled. "Like old times."  
  
"Only thing missin' is that damn harmonica of yours, thank the Lord."  he added, jokingly.  
  
"Well, I can always sing if ya want."  Jack retorted, and had gotten through the first few lines of his rendition of _Blue Skies,_ when Ennis' laughter made him start laughing too.  The sound of their voices echoed back to them from across the mountains, stirring a red-tailed hawk who shrieked at them from below and then flew off, tail feathers flashing russet in the sun.   Jack had returned.  
  
Jack took to wearin' a hawk's feather he'd found in his hatband after that.

 

* * *

  
The old bunkhouse had no indoor plumbing or electricity, was really nothing more than a line shack at the outer edges of the property, but it was better than that ol' cat piss smellin’ puptent.  There was a woodstove and four bunks along one wall, one of which Ennis had made up, with sheets and an old quilt. There was an outdoor shower rigged up, powered by the sun; but that was ok, because there was noone around for miles. Sharin’ a bottle of whiskey and gettin’ naked with Ennis was most all Jack wanted anyway.  
  
Jack stood in the doorway, the sun was goin’ down and the temperature was dropping quickly.  He was admiring the sunset and listening to the field crickets singing; Ennis wondered aloud if maybe they ought to think about modernizing the place, but it was heaven as far as Jack was concerned, all in good time _._   Ennis was admiring Jack shirtless, his chest hair leading down to a trail of treasures; Jack brought heaven to him.  
  
It was dusk; the room was getting dark and chilly so Ennis started a fire in the woodstove, lit the kerosene lantern.

Ennis was a taciturn man, inclined to quietness and reserve, mostly; but Jack knew there was a fire within him, as apt to be provoked into a fistfight as a night of lovin’.  Once, when they'd stopped in to the Black and Blue Eagle for a couple of beers, a group of bikers were there, and one made a snide remark about the place goin’ downhill if they were lettin’ in cowboys.  Jack had seen Ennis’ temper in action then, but Ennis’d never been that way with Jack, only showed him tenderness and love.

Ennis snarled at the man, inquiring if he wanted to lose about half his fuckin’ teeth, to which the biker replied  that no, he’d lost enough of ‘em already in bar fights and wanted ta keep whatever he had left, and backed away, raising a hand in surrender and saying he didn’t come there lookin’ for no trouble. Then, in typical Ennis fashion, he felt badly about losing his temper, apologized and bought ‘em all a round of drinks, and that was the end of it. When they got back to the house, Ennis made sweet love to Jack all night long.  
  
Occasionally they’d see the guy around town, and he and Ennis’d greet each other like they’d been friends for years, and probably would be, knowin’ Ennis. You didn’t mess with Ennis, but if he took to ya, you had a friend for life.  
  
Jack felt something profound whenever he thought about how the quiet Ennis had learned to trust him; slowly, over time, so hesitant and unsure of himself at first.  That he was the one Ennis had opened up to and shared himself with, both in spirit and in body, from the time of their discovery of each other during their summer up on Brokeback and ever since, and it was something he didn't take lightly.  The fragility of the thing almost frightened him, but so tangible it was, what Ennis had given to him, he could practically hold it in his hands.  
  
He couldn't put the feeling into words, a rarity for him, some would say; but if pressed for an answer, the closest he could come would be to thank the Lord, or the Fates who had spun and intertwined the threads of their lives, or the winds that had buffeted him through his life until at last he finally came to rest, or whatever power was responsible for his being the one chosen to show up at Joe Aguirre's trailer that day in Signal, and that brought him to  Ennis.  
  
On the rare ocassions when tempers did flare between ‘em, Ennis knew Jack wouldn’t put up with none of it.  Jack also knew when it was best not to ask no questions, and just let Ennis be.   But when that fire started and Jack could harness it into a night of lovemaking, he was a very happy man.  Most times, they took their time with their lovin’, but other times, they wanted to just get right down to it, skippin’ any of the preliminaries.  
  
"Jack."  
  
Jack turned as he heard Ennis call his name, Ennis holding out his hand and asking him to come to bed.   Tonight was gonna be one of them slower times.  
  
Jack trusted Ennis as well, and when he got like this, Jack knew there was gonna be nothin’ but pleasure in store for him. Ennis gently urged him to lie back, and shirtless, but still clad in jeans, straddled him and pinned Jack's arms up and back, over his head.  
  
"Now ya can’t never get away from me again." Ennis whispered, leaning in and kissing Jack, wanting to keep Jack earthbound for as long as he could.

If he’d really wanted to, he could have easily slipped out of Ennis’ grasp, Jack knew, but he didn’t want to. 

"Ennis." he said, and shivered.   The anticipation of not knowing what Ennis was gonna do next heightened his senses and made him feel everything more intensely.   Jack smiled with closed eyes, happy and a little bit sad, and gave himself over to the feather light touches of Ennis' rough, callused hands on his body, knowing he'd never leave Ennis willingly.

"Ennis, let me touch you, need to touch you." he pleaded, when he could stand it no longer.

Finally, Jack saw his opportunity and took it. In one quick motion, he grabbed Ennis, and flipped him over so that he was lying on his back, and climbed on top of him, and before Ennis could say a word, kissed him full on the lips.  
  
"Now, let's get ya out of these." he said, as he unzipped Ennis' jeans and slid them down over his hips, leaning in to kiss Ennis' stomach.  He then proceeded to take Ennis to heaven, once again.

 

* * *

 

 

Ennis awoke from their lovers' sleep.  "Gotta go up to the cattle, get 'em bedded down for the night." he whispered to a sleeping Jack, nuzzling him awake.  Jack woke up, kissed him back, and said "No, I’ll go."

"Ya sure?"

"Yeah, you rest."

Jack dressed, and Ennis got up, still half asleep, and wrapped himself in the quilt as he walked Jack to the door.  Off in the distance, a coyote yipped.

"Take my rifle." Ennis said quietly.

"See ya in the mornin’." Jack said.

Ennis watched from the doorway as Jack took ShyAnne's reins and swung himself up into the saddle.  
  
"C'mon, girl."  Jack said, clicking his tongue and giving her a gentle nudge with his legs.  Shyanne sprang forward, and off they went.  Ennis watched until they were out of sight, disappearing like quicksilver into the evening sky.

 

* * *

 

 

When Jack got back the next morning, tired but exhilarated from being out all night guardin' the herd, Ennis had already started coffee on the woodstove in the blue spattered enamelware pot and was making campfire eggs, turning them over the fried potatoes in the skillet, bacon already cooked and set aside. 

"Ain’t nothin’ special." Ennis said, looking up as Jack entered.

Bacon and eggs and butter from the cooler, frybread, homemade strawberry preserves, canned peaches.  And just because he knew how much Jack loved ‘em, Ennis'd brought some cans of Bettermost beans along with their supplies.  Jack just rolled his eyes and laughed.

"Says who? Looks good to me, and I’m starvin’." Jack said, hanging his hat up next to Ennis’ on one of the hooks beside the door, and running a hand through his thick hair.  Being out in the mountain air all night had made him hungry.   He grabbed a slice of the bacon.

Bad dreams were becoming less and less, flashbacks too. Jack was sleepin’ better, and his leg was gettin’ stronger, the stiffness easing and he was gaining more mobility. But most of all, he had the realization that those fuckers hadn’t killed him, and he allowed himself to be glad that he had survived, and put aside his guilt for it.

 _"_ Everythin’s fine up there." he assured Ennis.

 

* * *

  
   
They forded crystal clear streams and creeks as they moved their small herd of cattle, swaying in the saddle with the gentle rocking motion of their horses; like the river stones they could see at the bottom, their edges worn smooth from ages of tumbling over and against each other in rushing waters.   Ennis rode point, whistling and calling from the front of the herd, with Jack at the back, ridin' the drag; the dogs keeping any stragglers in line at the flanks, and moving them at their own pace, slow and easy.  
  
There was a squall line forming and the sound of thunder rolling off in the distance, and Ennis and Jack wanted to keep going to stay ahead of the storm, but they got caught in the beginnings of it, in a gentle, misty rain that wasn't entirely unwelcome because it settled all the dust between 'em.  
  
Some days Jack would take Blackfoot and Ennis would ride Tobacco, giving ShyAnne and Cigar Butt a well-earned rest, picketed between two trees, or turned loose to graze and frolic in the alpine meadows.  
  
"We ought ta come up here and do ourselves a little fishin', one of these days." Ennis said, and Jack agreed.  
  
At night, they would talk or read by lantern and firelight, listen to the transistor radio when they could get any station reception, or just simply be with each other in the quiet; until K.E. came up to relieve them, and they returned to their more earthly pursuits.

Da Nang, South Vietnam –  April 1970

Lureen received the letter she hoped she would, Jack’s acknowledgement of Bobby, with some of the necessary paperwork completed, and a check to help with his care and expenses, which she didn’t expect. Here she was after four years, still in this country, when she’d only signed on for two years initially. She was getting tired.  Maybe it was time she went back home to Texas.

Once she received little Bobby’s passport and immigrant visa, Lureen had arranged for some leave, on the face of it to visit her family in Texas.  She’d spent most every free minute she had with Bobby and had become very attached to him, too attached, she knew.  Jack had suggested she get in touch with a couple of his old buddies from MACV who were volunteering in the evacuation efforts to fly her and the baby out of Da Nang on one of their next helicopter runs to Bangkok.  When the helicopter landed at U-Tapao Royal Thai Navy Airfield, outside of Bangkok, she was at last able to take a breath; they were out of Vietnam and in an officially neutral country. She had booked a room for the two of them at the Dusit Thani hotel in Bangkok, their flight to the United States wasn’t for a couple more days. Bobby was sleepy; he had fallen asleep in her arms, she brushed a few wayward strands of his black hair from his eyes.  She should get them both something to eat and put him down for a nap, so that he’d have some semblance of a schedule during all this.   After getting Bobby bathed and changed into his pajamas, she got out one of his favorite coloring books, the one about cowboys, and crayons.  
  
"Bobby, wait here for me."  she told him, and then took a quick shower, and put on one of the fluffy hotel robes when she was done.  Bobby was still coloring in his coloring book when she returned to the room, drying her hair with a towel.  He was humming  little song of his own making, crayons strewn about the carpet.  
  
""Why is the sky blue and not orange?"  Bobby asked her.  Lureen wondered what he might be referring to.  
  
"Orange? Oh No!  Not Orange!"  Lureen exclaimed, raising the pitch of her voice in mock horror, and Bobby giggled.  
  
"It can be orange, sometimes, in a nice sunrise.  Or a nice sunset.  And all kinds of pretty colors.  You can color it any color you want to, kiddo."  Lureen said, and flopped down into one of the room's sumptuous chairs, put her feet up and perused the room service menu for them.  
  
Bobby, after all he’d been through, hadn’t lost a sense of curiosity and wonder about what was going on around him.   Most everyone spoke English to him, especially Lureen, and he was learning quickly.  The orphanage had arranged a "pre-school" to prepare the children who would be emigrating to other countries.  He was almost four now; the quickness with which children learned at this age amazing her.   He was full of questions, about his father, his mother, cowboys, horses, pilots, the airplanes and helicopters, _why, why, why_.  Why was the sky blue.  Lureen did her best to answer his questions honestly and in a way that he could understand.

The evacuees boarded the Pan Am charter flight.   One ticket, one seat for them both.  She held Bobby a little bit tighter, taking his chubby little hand in hers and kissing it.  From there, they would stop for refueling in the Phillipines and be off for San Francisco.  
  
San Francisco, CA - The Presidio – April 1970

Lureen and Bobby arrived at Crissy Airfield at the Presidio Army Base in San Francisco, where Jack and Ennis where waiting for them, with a big long-lashed, plush giraffe for Bobby.

Jack crouched down to eye level with Bobby.

"Hey there, Bobby." he said.

"Say hello to your Daddy." Lureen said, a happy lilt in her voice. Bobby smiled shyly. Everyone had already told him all about his Daddy.

"Daddy." he said.  
  
"That’s right." Jack said with a laugh.

Lureen handed Bobby to Jack, and shook Ennis’ hand as Jack introduced them.

Jack held Lureen. "I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me." he said.  He invited her to join them for dinner, but she only had a short layover before she had to catch her flight to Texas early the next morning.  
  
"Next time, promise?"  she said with a smile.  
  
"You can bet on it.  You take care of yourself now, and stay in touch."  Jack said.  
  
She looked at Bobby and Jack for one last time, and that giraffe, and said, "Oh hell, why not, let's go to dinner then."  
  
Jack smiled broadly, and after Bobby was processed through Immigrations, they made the quick drive across the Golden Gate Bridge to Sausalito, the orange-colored North Tower rising up out of the late-afternoon fog and looking like what the bridge to heaven must look like, but who knew it would be found in Sausalito.  
  
After freshening up, Jack asked about getting a sweater or jacket for Bobby, they all went out to dinner, to a place where a little child would feel right at home.  
  
Lightning Flat, WY – April 1970

The day Bobby arrived at the Twist house, Ada Twist fell in love with the little boy. She was glad to have a child in the empty house again. She still had Jack’s old childhood bed in the attic, saved it hoping someday she’d have a grandchild, had all but given up on the idea; she had retrieved it and gotten it ready for Bobby.  
  
"Come here, precious one."  she said to him when Jack gave him to her to hold.

And one day, Old Man Twist, whose face had been set with deep, craggy lines and weathered like the side of a mountain and just about as remote and hard to reach, softened and melted like the spring snows from that mountain as he warmed up to his little grandchild too. He’d been tough on Jack when Jack was comin’ up; didn’t know no other way.   But he was an old man now, startin’ to look at things differently with more of his life behind him than in front of him. What happened to the man he used to be, the one who used to ride the bulls with so much confidence and determination, and thought he could take the world by the horns, back then?   Time's a thief; yer only borrowin' it for awhile.  
  
Now he could see where that young man went, what little good there was in him; he could see it in Jack.  He hadn't been much of a father to Jack, he realized, and he regretted that.  He didn’t know if he could accept his son’s lifestyle yet, if ever, just couldn't understand it; but hell, he'd never been one for that bible thumpin', fire 'n' brimstone bullshit neither, and he certainly could accept his grandson.  For Jack, it was a start, the snowmelt allowing him a chance to get through the mountain pass, however brief the duration.  
  
No sir, John Twist Sr. was not a religious man, he was much too practical for that.  Nowadays, the only time you'd find him anywhere near a church, outside of weddin's or funerals, was at Ada's insistence, for some function that she'd drag his butt to, as she was a regular churchgoer and found great comfort in it.  He did have to admit that social gatherin's were good for business, though.   _The funerals were startin' to outnumber the weddin's right about now_ , he chuckled, with a sense of irony.

* * *

 

Jack put Bobby to bed, and sang to him to sleep, the only song he could think of, an old cowboy song, the closest thing to a lullaby that he knew: _I got a dollar in my pocket, there ain’t a cloud up above . . ._ and Bobby drifted off to sleep. He found that fatherhood came quite naturally to him. The poor child had been cryin' and fussin' on and off for most of the day, didn’t eat much of anything either, probably everything here so foreign to him and missing his home. _I got a picture in a locket. . . . Well, if ya didn’t look then boys, then fellas, don’t go lookin’ now, hmmmm, hmmmm, well, here she comes a’walkin’, hey, all that Heaven will allow._

It had been pretty good to Jack so far.

Once Bobby was asleep, Jack covered him with a blanket. He was too young to be aware of most of what was going on, thankfully, everything still new to him. Still young enough that he would make a good adjustment to his new culture and home. Jack would be sure to teach him of his heritage, and how much his mother had loved him. He made a silent promise to be a more patient father than his father was with him, do things differently, as new parents who were raised under less-than-ideal circumstances themselves sometimes do.  
  
_This fatherin’ stuff ain’t so bad,_ he thought.

_tbc_


	23. Someday Soon

Twenty-Five Miles Outside of Sage, WY at the Summer Pasture - September, 1974

"Jack, quittin' time, come take a break!" Ennis hollered up, taking one himself, and getting ready to pour couple of glasses of sweet tea, or lemonade, have a sandwich or whatever it was that Grace had packed in the cooler for them while they worked on the old bunkhouse. A couple of cold beers too, he was glad to see. Ennis took off his tee shirt, mopped the sweat from his brow with it and wiped his hands.  Maybe someday, they'd be able to afford the extra help who'd live here at the bunkhouse, but for now, it was just the two them.

They had a well dug and plumbing installed for running water, but they still had to use an outhouse.  Ennis had done all of the electrical work himself, Jack the carpentry that could be done on their own, and they both worked on winterizing the place, putting in the insulation, repairin' the roof and the paintin'. They kept the old woodstove in the living room and the original vaulted ceiling, but added a skylight window. A couple of hand-woven rugs and wall hangings they’d bought for the newly refinished pine floors and to adorn the walls, and brand new kitchen; small and basic, but they didn’t need anythin' more 'n that, and no telephone hooked up.  
  
Jack had even made a start on a small garden.   Blue-violet spires of the common but beautiful native wildflower alpine speedwell, seen everywhere along the roadsides and throughout the pastures, now took it upon themselves to grow there and stood regally against the sides of the house in a border, along with other alpine wildflowers, the yellow buttercups and blue forget-me-nots, and all along the dirt driveway. There was a small deck off the back with a couple of Adirondack chairs, badly in need of paintin', and maybe someday, an addition with a couple of rooms for the kids.  
  
Over the front door frame, Ennis had nailed up two horseshoes linked together, which he had fashioned at the blacksmith's, who melded iron and fire with the bang of a hammer on the anvil like a priest sealin' a marriage union, for good luck and good fortune, a variation on an old Celtic custom, facing up so that their good luck would never run out.  
  
A six-point set of elk antlers and skull, perhaps winter-killed long ago and bleached white by the sun that they'd discovered on a huntin' trip, was mounted high up under the roof gable.   Jack said the elk was considered a powerful spiritual symbol and brought good elk medicine, for strength and protection, brotherhood and community, consulted in matters of the heart and for good luck in love, according to tradition and stories told to him by his mother's family.  She was Oglala Lakota, born on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota, Lightnin' Flat not far from the sacred Black Hills.

He stopped to admire the view, which included the sight of a shirtless Jack on the roof, nailing down shingles in the fading sunlight, which was enough to inspire a thought or two for later.  _Jack sure had somethin'_ , Ennis thought.  Jack turned and smiled down at him, raising his hand in greeting, then climbed down the ladder, the clang of metal as his work boots descended the rungs, and removed his tool belt.  
  
He and Jack; in a good-natured race with the sun to finish the roofing before the first snow flew. He and Jack spent whatever free time they had working on their place. When the big snows came, they'd move back to the main house.

Ennis put his arms around Jack's waist, Jack's worn jeans ridin' low on his slim hips, showin' where he wasn't so tanned. He slipped his fingers into Jack's belt loops and pulled him closer. Now, they had their own bed to go to.

They made their way to the outdoor shower to wash up, and Ennis would have had Jack right there if he could; but there was somethin' that he wanted to discuss with him.

These warm summer days would be few and far between now.  Ennis watched as Jack took off his jeans and entered the louvered shower enclosure, turned on the water, lifted his arms and ran his wet hands over his face and through his hair, the water slipping over his magnificent body, down his back and collecting in droplets in the contours of his chest, and then as he picked up the bar of soap and washed under his arms. Ennis was slim and lanky in build; Jack just a bit more muscular, and he never tired of looking at Jack’s body, so similar to his, yet different too. He stood there, captivated, feeling the familiar rush of arousal; the discussion could wait awhile.

Jack glanced up and caught Ennis looking, as he washed between his legs, soaping himself to erection as Ennis watched, and he rubbed his thumb over the engorged head, the lusty smile on his face inviting Ennis to join him as he rinsed off.  Ennis removed his pants, and joined Jack in the shower, soaped up and rinsed, Jack scrubbed his back for him with the washcloth, and they kissed and stroked each other. Jack brought Ennis off with his hand; Ennis got down and took Jack in his mouth, takin' him the rest of the way, Jack pulling him closer and gently thrusting, his fingers threading through Ennis' wet hair, caressing his shoulders, Ennis' hands squeezin' his butt, the water cascading over them, down over Ennis' back. Jack's toes curled and flexed against the wooden slats of the shower floor, the soap and water rushing between them, as he closed his eyes and groaned in the pleasure of Ennis' mouth, together with the rain of the water and the sounds of nature all around, and a breathless Ennis, after he'd finished, looked back up at Jack, wiping his mouth with his forearm.  
  
He rose, turning off the water, and Jack handed him one of the towels from the hook outside the shower door, drying himself off with the other one.

Ennis adjusted the arm of the shaving mirror that had been tacked up to the side of the shower wall, wiped the steam from it with the towel, then wrapped it around his waist and ran a comb through his hair, and Jack combed his. The wet towels were left draped over the backs of the old Adirondack chairs, to dry in the last of the warm Indian summer breeze.

The Roundup – Late September/Early October, 1974

They began the enormous and challenging job of rounding up the cattle, bringing them down from the high pasture.  Down from the hillsides covered with the sharp, camphoric smellin' mountain big sagebrush, juniper and piñon pine, the air was like an invigorating tonic; roustin' 'em out from the gullies and washes, and out of the canyons and watering holes, over miles of National Forest and BLM allotments surrounding the ranch.  Hawks wheeled overhead, to the restful sounds of the cowboys whistlin’ and a'callin'.    The sage grouse were returning to their winter ranges.

They got some help from a neighboring rancher; Tom Calter and Joshua, his youngest son. Junior and Bobby rode up on their horses; Junior knew Josh from school, where he was a few years ahead of her. Junior begged to come along, but was told it wasn't no place for girls, maybe someday soon, though.

"You boys’ve done well with this ol’ place." Tom said to K.E. and Ennis. "Made your mother proud."

Ennis looked up into the man's weathered face.  It was obvious he’d been a good looking man in his day.   Tom had two ex-wives whom he claimed now both despised him, and six children between 'em both.   He’d been seeing Grace for awhile now. Ennis had liked him, and told his mother when he first started comin’ 'round and he had gotten to know him, back then.

"You say that like ya had some say in the matter." Grace had said with a laugh, and tousled her son’s blond hair, but he knew she had been pleased about it.

Ennis introduced him to Jack, and with his cattleman’s squinty gaze, Tom removed his work glove and shook Jack’s hand.

"Nice ta know ya." he said, one veteran to another, but from different battles.  
  
Harvest

Snow-covered mountain peaks rose ethereal from above the clouds, and an occasional mule deer, pronghorn, or band of wild horses would come in to the watering holes for a drink. Night would find them telling stories and laughing or singing next to a crackling, aromatic piñon-log fire, and then sleeping out under the stars, a big orange harvest moon low on the horizon giving them the light to get just a little bit more work done before winter, and celebrate the harvest from seeds of dreams planted years before at last come to fruition.  Josh brought his guitar; Jack, his harmonica, and Ennis, his warm and easy-going baritone, and they sang their favorite songs, and the old hymn or two, after gainin' the vocal confidence a little whiskey'll give ya.

Ennis sang _Sweet Baby James_ and _Adelita Rose_ , a song he used to sing to Junior; Jack, in his clear, bright tenor, sang lead on _Old Man_ and  _Harvest Moon_ , and wailed a harmonica accompaniment to the hypnotic chords of the acoustic guitar, and K.E. joined in on _Whiskey Boot Hill_ and _Long May You Run_ , in a tribute to Ennis' old rattletrap pickup truck, and their friendship.  Ennis tried to remember just when it was that Jack's harmonica playin' went from soundin' like a discordant affront to his ears, to the sweet and earthy tones of a blues harp.

"Don't be settin' off them coyotes now." Tom kidded them, a distant prairie tenor coyote sometimes lendin' his voice for a measure or two, but even he had to admit that they they didn't sound half bad.

They wound their way on cutting horses between the cows and calves; separating those that would go to market, taking a headcount as they loaded them onto the cattle trucks. They'd lost a few; encountered the unwelcome sight of a predator-eviscerated carcass, or some just lost and unaccounted for, who knew where or why.  But they would have another decent year, this time.

 

Payday – November 1974

On Friday, Ennis and Jack drove into town, Ennis had to stop in at the power company office to pick up his check, and then to the lumberyard, and maybe they’d grab a little lunch and a beer somewheres after cashing it.

They entered the building, and were greeted warmly by a pretty receptionist.  Jack looked at the nameplate on her desk .  _Caroline Hendrickson, Administrative Assistant_ , it said.

"Hi, Ennis!"

"Callie."  Ennis tipped his hat.

"You here for your check?  Payroll’s a little late  Can I get ya some coffee while ya wait?"

"No, thanks". Ennis mumbled, shuffling his feet.

Ennis introduced Jack to her, and he extended his hand.  She took it briefly, but turned her attention right back to Ennis.   Ennis this and Ennis that.

"Will we be seein’ ya at the Company Christmas party this year?  Invitations goin’ out next week." she said.

"Hope so." Ennis said, still not one for makin’ small talk much, and Jack smiled.

When the payroll came, Ennis signed for his check, and he and Jack were on their way.

"'Bye, Ennis!   Hope ta see ya again real soon.   Nice to meet ya . . Jack was it?" Callie said, strugglin’ to remember his name, it seemed to Jack.   Jack had even given his best  smile, but it was no use.   She only had eyes for Ennis.

"Oh hiiiiiii, Ennis!" Jack had teased, after they were outside and out of earshot, mimicking Callie’s voice. "That girl was sure flirtin’ and makin’ cow eyes at you."

"Who, Callie? That ain’t nuthin’. That’s how she is with everybody." Ennis brushed it off.

"You jealous or somethin’?  Well, you ain’t got nuthin’ ta worry about, 'cause you’re prettier ‘n she is."  Ennis shot back with a wicked grin.

"Get out." Jack laughed and gave Ennis a playful shove.

"Don’t got no reason to be, don’t think, do I?" It was kind of nice, other people wantin’ his man. Only he had him though.  
  
"Let’s go and get ourselves a drink and somethin’ to eat. I’m starvin’." Ennis replied, more interested in gettin' some lunch, right at that moment.

Ennis and Jack were starting to be seen together pretty regular 'round town, and if they didn't exactly flaunt their relationship, for obvious reasons, they didn't hide it, either. If anyone had a problem with it, nobody had made it known, so far anyway.

 _"_ Most folks got better things to do than worry 'bout what we're doin', I hope." Jack would say.  Ennis wished he could share Jack's optimism.  He and K.E. still remembered what happened to Earl and Rich.

They climbed into Ennis’ old truck, and with only a little protestin’ from the engine, it started right up.

"You ever gonna replace this old thing?" Jack asked, knowing full well that Ennis would probably sooner continually fix and tinker with it, than replace it with somethin’ new.

"Where to?" Jack asked, pretty much knowin' what the answer would be.  
  
"We ain't been to Dee's lately, have we?  You know she'd love ta see ya." Ennis mused, thinkin' about getting a couple of beers, and one of Dee's heavenly, fall-apart tender pot roast sandwiches, with the grilled onions and mashed potatoes smothered in gravy, and a slice of pie.  
  
"No, we haven't." Jack smiled

Fast Forward – Rodeo Sweetheart

Junior Del Mar waited for her mother to take her to spend the weekend at her father’s ranch. She sighed. She was never more happy than when she was there, riding horses and helping Jack and her father with the chores. Monroe was nice enough, she guessed, and he and her mother seemed happy, and she had come to care for him, and she loved her new baby sister Jenny. But he wasn’t her real father.  
  
Junior saw her mother’s car coming up the drive. She was at the age where, if her stepfather even dared try to tell her what to do, would deliberately challenge and defy him, with a "mind your stepfather" from her mother, still resentful that her real father was gone.

"He's not my father." she'd bitterly reply, and stomp off to the solace of her room, slamming the door behind her. She’d even asked Ennis if she could live with him.

"Daddy, why can’t I come and live with you and Jack, and Gramma, I’d be an awful good help, you know I would."

"I know you would, darlin’, but you know I ain’t set up for that yet, and we don’t know what your mother will say about it."

But they did have the extra room at the main house, now that K.E. was married and gone, he and Jack livin' out at the remodeled log cabin bunkhouse.

Monroe was a patient man, and he, Alma and Ennis discussed it, Ennis suggesting that she might work out whatever was troublin’ her at the ranch for the summer, and Alma agreed that it might be a good thing for their rebellious daughter. She knew that the divorce had been hard on Junior, causing an upheaval in her young life that she wished she had been able to spare her.

"Probably nothin’ more than the normal pains of growin’ up, is all." Ennis said.

Alma held the receiver against her ear for a few moments before hanging up, rueful; the conversation making her remember the same things she’d always loved about Ennis. _The same qualities that drew her to him in the first place_ , she thought.

__"Tell us about how you met Daddy at the rodeo." Junior would ask for the what seemed like the hundredth time when she was littler, finding how her parents met endlessly fascinating, a dashing young rodeo cowboy and a pretty young girl waving from the stands, and either Alma or Ennis would tell her the story again and again._ _

__"About fell right off that bronc when I first seen your Momma." he said with a wink, as he tweaked Junior’s earlobe between his thumb and forefinger.__  
  
Alma would tease him and remind him that he probably would only have stayed on that bronc for about three seconds anyway, in his short-lived rodeo career.

_Ennis had picked himself up, dusted himself off, retrieved his hat and plucked up the courage to ask her out for a date, and they went dancin’ the next evenin’, he and Alma, Ennis deliberate and countin’ the steps in his head. You grew up, found yourself  a nice girl to marry, took your place in the world, and that was that. He hadn't exactly bowled her folks over the way he had Alma, but they'd come 'round to him eventually, because Alma wouldn't have it any other way. Then he’d met Jack and grew to know him, and how nothing had prepared him for it._

"Please, Daddy?"

They compromised on extended stays at the ranch, and Junior could stay the summers.

"Yay! I love you, Daddy." she told him, giving him a hug that almost knocked his hat off, and if Ennis never knew it before, he certainly found out right then what it meant to be loved unconditionally.

‘I love you too, honey."

"Bye, Jack! Bye, Daddy!" she said as she kissed them both enthusiastically. She loved them both somethin’ fierce and woe be to anyone who said anything against them, especially her mother. She was thirteen.

As Junior got into the car, her mother scolded her again, taking note of her daughter’s sullen expression in response, and Ennis’ brown eyes lookin’ back at her.

"Alma Junior, I swear, you always come back from a stay at your father’s in those dirty jeans and boots, and smellin’ like a horse blanket. And why don’t you do something with that pretty hair of yours? Look at you, a lot of girls would love to have hair that beautiful, and you take it for granted."

Junior had her hair carelessly thrown up into a haphazard ponytail under her cowboy hat, just a few stray tendrils falling out from under it.

"And don’t come back stinkin’ up the car, smellin’ like a dirty horse blanket again." her mother warned. Junior loved workin’ with the horses.

"Give me a kiss goodbye." Alma said, and turned her cheek to her daughter.

As much as she and her mother seemed to clash of late; her mother could read her mind; always knew when something was wrong, had a way of dragging the truth out of her.  Her mother just knew.

"Mo-om." she whined, dutifully kissed her mother and lugged her suitcase out of the backseat. She preferred to be called Junior, like her Daddy and Jack called her. And Bobby Twist.

Junior had taken riding lessons and had been around horses since she was a small girl, before she could walk even, takin' to it quicker 'n a fish to water, her Daddy has said. She inherited one of ShyAnne’s long-legged foals, a gift from Jack for her birthday. She couldn’t have dreamt of a better surprise. She still hadn’t really thought of a proper name for her yet.

She and Jack leaned against the split-rail corral fence, watching ShyAnne and her beautiful filly run, same bay color and almost the same white blaze marking on her face.

"You’ll have to take good care of her, make sure ya groom her every day now." he said.

"I will, I swear." Junior promised him with all of her heart.

 

The Elk Dreamers

Ennis heard a click as a key turned the lock tumblers. It was Jack, just getting in from the long and tiring drive from Lightnin' Flat. He came in and tossed his hat on a chair, found Ennis laboring away over some paperwork, light from the desk lamp glowing. It was well into the night, and Ennis was waiting up for him.

"Whatcha doin’, burnin the midnight oil." he said, as he came up behind Ennis’ chair, his arms encircling him from behind, and kissed his cheek. Ennis looked up from what he was doing, slightly preoccupied, and kissed Jack’s lips.

"Jack." he said. "I been thinkin’."

"Oh no." Jack teased. "Not again."

"I think we should be partners."

"Thought we already was partners?" Jack grinned, sitting down in a chair and kicking off his dirty boots.

"No, ya dumbass, business partners." Ennis said. "Takin’ out a partnership on the ranch together.  Official."

But in reality Ennis knew Jack was no dumbass, but was smart as a whip, hard-working, and ambitious. Jack was his closest friend and the one he trusted most in this world, or he would have never have proposed the idea to him in the first place. He'd given it much thought. And Ennis knew that if he had any inclination towards becoming set in his ways about runnin' the place, Jack, having a different viewpoint and another set of eyes to see, would challenge him and fix that up right quick, and it could only benefit the business.

"Yeah, I know that. Done all the time." Jack retorted. "You sure about this?"

"We’ll talk to a lawyer about drawin’ up the papers." Ennis said.

"We’ll split everythin’, right down the middle, 50/50.  You can be the frontman, the talker, it’s what your good at.  I’ll be the one behind the scenes, doin’ most of the work, as usual." Ennis kidded him.

"Sounds like there’s a compliment in there somewheres." Jack said and laughed.

"I think we can do this, Jack." Ennis said, noone more surprised or in need of convincing than he was himself.

"I don't doubt it." Jack smiled, and they shook hands.   Ennis slapped him on the shoulder, and took out the good bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet and two glasses, poured them each a drink, neat.  On the bottle's label were the words _Sine Metu,_ Latin for without fear; they clinked their glasses in a toast to their new venture, and it tasted sweet as honey.  
  
  
The Decision

When Jack's parents had passed on; his mother about a year after his father, it was with a heavy heart that Jack began the process of selling the property at Lightnin' Flat, dickering and horse-tradin' to get the best deal, as he was so good at doing. The fields of the remote place where he and his parents had tried to eke out a livin' was overgrown with grasses now, and dotted with clover flowers; left fallow, returned to the earth only to begin anew. It was difficult to let go of; he'd lease it for the time being.

After a few sleepless nights coming to the decision, his plan was to take the proceeds from the sale and put them into his and Ennis' ranch for their partnership, maybe to buy some more land, and when the time came, he gave his notice to the Company. And although he no longer reported to Hank Gleason at the feed store, he wanted to stop in and express his gratitude to the one who'd helped him get his start. He drove until he could see to the red-and-white checkerboard ringed grain silos of County Tractor and Supply.

"Goin' into business for ourselves, Hank." he'd told his former boss.  The experience he'd gained and the contacts he'd made would be invaluable.

"You'll always have a place with us, Jack." Hank had said, and wished him much success.

* * *

 

_Do you, John Charles Twist, take this man to be your partner in the sight of God? Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live? I do. . . . and thereto I plight thee my troth. With this Ring, I thee wed; with my Body, I thee worship; and with all my worldly goods, I thee endow: in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen._

"Can't be in two places at once now, can I." he'd told Ennis, when Ennis expressed his happy surprise, as this was unexpected; and then concern, wanting to be sure that Jack was sure, especially since he knew how much the place had meant to him. It was too much on him to maintain the place now, he'd said; and his life now was in Sage.

_I, Ennis Connor Del Mar, take thee, John Charles Twist, to be my partner, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, and thereto I plight thee my troth. With this Ring, I thee wed; with my Body, I thee worship; and with all my worldly goods, I thee endow: in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen._

After they came back from the final meeting with the laywer and when the papers were all signed, how much like a marriage it was; their business partnership. The most successful ones were like a good marriage, the lawyer had said. The plannin' for the future, the sharin' of everything, the sense of trust in each other and commitment to it, the sense of lookin' out for and lookin' after the other one. The realization was not lost on either one of them, even if it was something they almost dared not articulate openly, but the thoughts did cross their minds as they sat together on the back deck contemplatin' what they'd just done, and even if the vows were made only in their hearts, just between them and their Maker, they felt them, and felt the blessing from above. Just then, Jack was inspired to pick a sprig of wildflowers, and he fastened it through the buttonhole of Ennis' sport coat lapel for a boutonnière.  It was a special occasion, after all.

"There." he said, and he gave Ennis' chest an affectionate pat when he was satisfied with how it looked. Jack found himself again aware of the warmth of Ennis' brown eyes, and how, when the light was just right, he saw in them the shades of tawny summer days in banded jasperstone canyons and earth; his square jawline and the way his lips were shaped, his strong nose, his sun-burnished skin, his nature of solid ground, and of looking at him for years to come.

"You look real handsome, Ennis." he said.

Ennis just smiled, took Jack's hands in his, and sent up a silent prayer of thanks.  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally written in December of 2008.


	24. Tonight, I'll Be Staying Here With You

Kemmerer, Wyoming - March 1969

The day had turned out to be nothing short of horrible – Junior had gotten sick and had kept Alma up half the night and into the morning.   She was late again for work, and her manager gave her the evil eye as she walked past. Customers who were the worst they had been all week, complaints - the end of her shift couldn’t come fast enough for Alma.   She still had to stop in at the grocery store on the way home.

In the checkout line at the grocery store, she looked up to see Monroe making his way over to her. _Well, if this don’t make my day complete_ , Alma thought, annoyed _. I’m gonna have to set him straight once and for all._ She just wasn’t ready to get involved with someone again. Monroe started to pick up her bags to help her out to her car, again.

"Monroe . . . " Alma started to object.

"I’m gonna ask you one more time, Alma Jean, and then I won’t bother you again." Monroe said. "Will you go out with me, have dinner with me.  Doesn’t make any sense, you bein’ home alone on a Saturday night."

"I can’t this Saturday, my little girl’s been sick.  But ask me again next week." Alma found herself saying, much to her surprise.

"I’m gonna hold you to that, Alma." Monroe said.

Alma drove home, back to the little run-down apartment, climbed up the back stairs with her groceries, to the sound of the _whoosh_ of the dryer fans coming on at the laundromat downstairs.

Later, after Alma had arrived home, there was a knock at the door. It was Ross Florists, delivering a beautiful bouquet of flowers from Monroe, confirming their date. Alma took one of the roses and gave it to Junior, who danced around the living room with it.

"Pretty flow-ers, Mommy." she sang.

"Yes, sweetheart." Alma said, as she started putting away the groceries.    "Let’s get ready for supper."  
  
Damn, she couldn't resist flowers, and Ennis had hardly ever thought of it.  Monroe was wearing her down.   She was only going out with him for dinner, that was all.  
   
    
Da Nang, South Vietnam - March 1969  
  
Lureen notified the Buddhist nuns at the orphanage and got little Bobby settled.   He'd had a physical exam by one of the doctors, and was perfectly healthy.

If Jack were to acknowledge paternity, and Lureen had no reason to think that he wouldn't, Bobby would be an American citizen.   She thought about what she would write in the letter to Jack to let him know that he was a father, the first step in the long trail of bureaucratic red tape involved in getting Bobby home where he belonged, as Lien-li had wished.  She should probably start making some discreet inquiries, contact the U.S. Embassy about the necessary documents, she thought, and take some photos of him.  Lureen sighed.  She hoped it would be welcome news; Jack had a beautiful little boy and she certainly had lost her heart to him already, and planned to visit him as often as she could.  
  
  
Sage, Wyoming - March 1969

Jack awoke to the sound of the rooster crowing; the sounds of  the day beginning at the ranch and the house waking up.   He sat up in bed, the morning light just starting to peek in through the curtains and scatter across the faded plank floor boards, the old radiator under the bedroom window hissing and clicking.  He was up early, even before Ennis, and that was sayin’ somethin’.  
  
Up under the dormer eaves of the little gambrel-roofed farmhouse, in this room, he looked over at Ennis, still asleep and warm beside him, sprawled out on his stomach, his long body partially covered by the sheets, face pressed into the pillows.  Ennis with his dark blond hair a tangle of damp waves over the pillowcases, from the moisture of the hot bath they’d taken together the night before. Ennis’ hair got even more wavy as it got longer.  Jack could still taste him from last night.  He didn’t think Ennis had ever looked more beautiful to him. 

They had the entire place to themselves; Grace had gone back with Clare and the grandkids to spend a few days in Casper; K.E. more ‘n likely had spent the night over at Carleen’s. It was a good thing too; the place looked like shit. Clothes strewn everywhere, bed covers all torn up, cigarette butts in the ashtray, a half-drunk bottle of Jack Daniel's and two glasses on the nightstand.  The stink of their sweat and semen mingled in the sheets from their sex the night before.  
  
He’d had to make a huge effort not to stare every time Ennis would strip down naked to wash up when they were up on Brokeback together, concentrate on makin’ supper, something, anything to try and keep from getting aroused at the sight of him, and havin’ Ennis know his thoughts, before they’d ever spent a night together. Little did he know then that he'd be sharing many a bath with Ennis one day.  Ennis was seemingly unaware of the effect he had on Jack, askin’ him if he wanted any of the hot wash water for himself as Jack averted his eyes, and he could only mumble " _it’s all yours_ ". Now, he could enjoy looking at Ennis’ body to his heart’s content. He reached over and caressed Ennis’ back, ran his hand down over his ass, through the sheet.   Ennis stirred slightly, turning his face a bit in his sleep, and Jack leaned in and gently kissed his lips. _I’d have gone through anything, to be with you, like this, always,_ he thought.

This part of the house had been an addition to the original structure of the farmhouse sometime during its history, and this room was Jack’s, for whenever he visited, and it was a refuge for him. Jack decided to let Ennis sleep a little bit longer, and climbed out of bed quietly so as not to disturb him. He pulled on his jeans, and padded down the hall in his bare feet to take a shower, floor boards gently creaking under him.  
  
Jack turned on the hot water and let the shower spray beat down over his shoulders and back, and soaped up his body.  He was feeling better; the docs had said he’d make a full recovery in time.  Best thing was to get right back on the horse again, just as Ennis had shown him. Ennis was not an uncomplicated man, but his philosophy and basic approach to life was simple and had always struck a chord within Jack, making him realize just what was worth worryin' about and what wasn't.  But Ennis hadn’t seen what he’d seen.  
  
He closed his eyes and let his mind wander to the night before as the shower steam rose all around him. Ennis had climbed on top of Jack, kissing him hard, and said in a low, smoke-and-whiskey voice, _I’m gonna fuck ya, Jack, give it to ya good, and then I’m gonna drink ya dry,_ making Jack tremble with anticipation, making him drunk with it.  Ennis readied Jack with lubricated fingers as Jack raised his hips, and Ennis entered him, coming explosively inside him.  His lips trailed down Jack’s body to his cock, taking Jack in his mouth.   When Jack had come, Ennis rested his head on Jack's stomach, kissing him, as they both caught their breath, rising and falling in unison.   And that had just been for starters.   Jack closed his eyes as he washed himself, enjoying the thought.

* * *

Jack came back into the bedroom as he finished drying off, put on a clean pair of jeans, and walked over to the window.  
  
He pushed aside the curtains and opened it, propping it up on the block of wood that was resting on the sill.  Just for a few minutes, to look outside.  He was greeted by a chorus of songbirds; it was going to be a mild spring day.  He looked down to the porch below, then out across the yard, to Grace’s flower and vegetable garden and high country rose bushes, dormant now, but that would be in full bloom once summer was underway, then out across the pastures.   The house could use some paintin’, Jack noticed, the window trim needed to be scraped and painted.  
  
So much to look forward to. _You’d better get your own house in order first,_ he reminded himself.    He shut the window, went over to get his suitcase and began to unpack his things, hanging his clothes up in the closet, putting them away in the small dresser.  
  
Dog tags, his medals, a peace symbol on a rawhide bootlace, his books, a few letters and postcards, Ennis' letter telling him of the divorce, his rodeo belt buckle, and a couple of souvenirs from their trip to Hawaii.  Ennis' old shirt from Brokeback, stained with both their blood, Ennis' from an accidental punch when they were roughhousing up on the moutain, Jack's from Dinh Lang.   A bond between them.  He'd never washed it, couldn't bring himself to.  He'd almost forgotten about it; and it had gotten him through many bad times.  Jack still hadn’t had a chance to talk with Ennis about the letter, and how much it meant to him.   He had just wanted to be with Ennis last night, and Ennis hadn't mentioned it.  
  
Ennis stirred in the bed as he began to wake up.   Jack slipped the the rawhide lace with the peace symbol over his head and positioned it around his neck.  
  
"Mornin’.  You plannin’ on gettin’ up some time today?  Time's a'wastin'." Jack said in mock seriousness from across the room, as he finished unpacking.

"Mornin’.   Whatcha you doin’ up?" Ennis mumbled into the pillows, still groggy.    Jack flopped down onto the bed next to him, pressing himself into Ennis' body.  
  
"Why, you wanna do it some more?" he whispered, with a long, slow lick under Ennis’ ear and down his neck.  
  
"Mmmmmm, c'mere."  Ennis said, turning to Jack and pulling him into a sleepy kiss.   "Ya damn near wore me out last night.   What'd ya have the window open for, lettin'  all the heat out."  
  
Jack said, "Just wanted to look outside for awhile."  
  
Suddenly becoming aware of the time, Ennis abruptly sat up in bed.  
  
"Aw shit, Jack.  What in hell time is it?  Why didn't ya wake me up?   Got stuff to do."  
  
"No ya don’t, not yet." Jack said gleefully, rolling over and leaning back on his elbows. "Thought I'd let ya sleep in for a bit."  
  
"It's a beautiful day outside, and we got the whole place to ourselves." he said, getting up and making a wide, sweeping arc with his arms.  "That is, unless any of the help is workin' today."  
  
"You don't understand, Jack, there's only one of the help workin' here today.  An' you're lookin' at him.  Ain't noone else yet, least until calvin' time in a few weeks - just me, K.E., Ma and anyone else we can lay hands on, meanin' you."   Ennis said, as  he hurriedly pulled on his pants.  "Me and you are the help.  Now quit foolin' around."  
  
"Don't worry, don't worry, I'll give ya a hand.  Lighten up, will ya?  I'm only havin' a little fun with ya."  Jack said, picking up one of the pillows and throwing it at Ennis, and Ennis tossed it back at him.   Jack knew full well how it could be runnin' a ranch, and with calving season fast approaching.

"You hungry?" Jack asked.   "Want me ta make ya somethin’? You go shower, I’ll see what we got in the fridge."

"You?  Last I seen, your cookin’ skills amounted ta openin’ a can a beans." Ennis said, laughing.

"Well, a lot’s changed since then." Jack said. "C’mon, I’ll make us some breakfast."

Jack ran downstairs, started the coffee, put out a couple of plates and mugs, and silverware while Ennis showered.   He rummaged around in the fridge; there was leftover ham, peppers and onions, cheese, eggs, butter.    He chopped everything up in an instant, it seemed to Ennis, melted the butter in a skillet, gave the ham and vegetables a quick saute and set them aside.  He then whisked up the eggs and poured them in, tossing them with a pull of the skillet like a pro and folding them over the ingredients, and in no time flat served Ennis up a delicious omelet and toast.

"Where'd you learn to cook like that?" Ennis asked in amazement.

"Told ya, ya gotta make do out there, and ya ain’t got a lot a time ta do it in". Jack said with a pleased smile.  "And  you know I was on my own for awhile, out in Washington."

"I know." Ennis said, knowing Jack had needed that time.  "Well, I’m impressed, this is good." 

Jack laughed.  He'd been waiting for an opportunity to talk to Ennis about the letter, and now was as good a time as any, he guessed.  
  
"Ennis, you know that letter ya wrote me means the whole world ta me."  Jack said.

"Hope so."  Ennis said, between bites.  
  
"When were ya thinkin' about takin’ me back ta Lightnin’ Flat? Jack asked.

"Wasn’t."   Ennis teased him.   "And we better get busy, got a lot to do around here."  he said.    "We can go back whenever you're ready to go."  he added.  
  
That suited Jack just fine; he didn’t really want to leave just yet anyway.  But he probably should start thinkin' about it.  
  
"I better call over there." he said, and made quick phone call to his folks, as Ennis got up and cleared the table and gave the dishes a quick rinse.  
  
Washin' 'em would have to wait, as straightening up Jack's bedroom had.  They'd have to take care of all of it all when they got back.   Good thing nobody else was due home today.   Ended up just shuttin' the door up there, the rumpled bed left unmade.  
  
Jack let his family know he'd arrived home and that he was at Ennis'.  His mother wasn't surprised that Jack was staying with Ennis, just overjoyed that he was home again, and his father gave his characteristically gruff welcome to his son.  
  
"You got a letter here from Vietnam."  his mother said.   "From a Lt. Lureen Newsome?"  Jack wondered what that could possibly be about, and promptly forgot about it.  
  
"When are ya comin' home, Jack?"  his mother asked.  "Your father needs ya around here."  
  
"Better get your ass in gear."  Ennis said to Jack as he headed for the door, winking at him.   "We'd like ta get them animals fed and watered sometime a'fore Christmas, huh?"  
  
Jack gave Ennis a playful shove, trying, and failing, to suppress his laughter as he tried to concentrate on his telephone conversation.  
  
"I'll be back in a day or two, three at the most."  Jack assured his mother.  
  
"But Jack . . . " his mother protested.  
  
"I gotta go, I'll talk to ya soon.  Bye, Ma."  Jack threw on his shearling-lined coat, grabbed his hat and followed Ennis out the door.

 

* * *

  
They got home late in the afternoon, after a long day; still had to clean up the house, and Jack wasn't about to repay Ennis' mother's kindness by leavin' the place in a mess.   They stripped the bedding for washin', brought down the whiskey bottle and glasses, emptied the ashtrays, swept the floor.   Ennis started a load of sheets and towels in the old washing machine on the closed-in back porch, and Jack did the dishes.  The water storage tank was on a platform, electrically powered by windmill to pump water up from the well for water pressure, heated by the propane tank nearby.  
  
After Jack finished the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen, he joined Ennis on the porch, sleeves rolled up and dishtowel over his shoulder.   Ennis had hung the sheets and towels on the clothesline out back, and was smoking a cigarette on the porch steps as he waited for the wash of their dirty work clothes to finish.  He brought with him a couple of beers, handed one to Ennis and sat down next to him.  
  
"Jack, I been thinkin'.   I want us to get our own place.   Thinkin' about goin' on a few nights a week over at the power company, saw in the paper that Intermountain Gas & Electric's got a couple openin's.   One of 'em's at the substation down near Evanston.  Work on the ranch durin' the day, and take another job at night so's we can save us some money to get us a place of our own, and I gotta support my little girl and all.  Now, I know you got responsibilities of your own up at your folks' place, for the time bein'.  I'm not talkin' right away.  Come and live with me, Jack."   Ennis said, taking a drag of his cigarette.  
  
Jack took a good long swig of his beer.  He wasn't expecting that; Ennis might just as well have offered him the world.  
  
"That's mighty ambitious of you, Ennis."  Jack said, barely able to contain the happiness in his voice.    "That'd make me real happy."  
  
"This ain't wrong, Ennis, what we feel."  he continued.  "There's lots of other people, just like us, who feel the same way we do."  he said, reaching over and caressing Ennis' cheek, giving Ennis' earlobe a gentle tug between his fingers.    Ennis leaned into Jack's touch.  
  
They heard the sound of gravel crunching under tires, as K.E.'s truck pulled up to the house, just gettin' home.  
  
"Must be K.E., slinkin' home like a tomcat."  Ennis said, and they both laughed.

 

* * *

 

"Where the hell you been, leavin’ us to do all the work around here." Ennis said jokingly as K.E. came round to the back of the house, having heard Jack’s and Ennis’ voices. K.E. had a large bag of what looked to be take-out from the China Jade restaurant in town, and a couple of six packs of beers. Ennis and Jack were just happy that they didn’t have to cook.  
  
"Had somewhere I had to be." K.E. answered.

"I bet. You been havin' a lot a them physical therapy appointments lately."  Ennis wisecracked, and Jack snickered.  
  
"Sounds serious." Jack quipped.

"You guys're fuckin' hilarious." K.E. dryly said.

"You been seein’ a lot of that Carly, ain't ya?" Ennis asked.

"I like her fine." K.E. replied.

"Well, I guess we’ll forgive ya, seein’ as ya brought supper." Ennis said as they walked back into the house.

"How’dya know any of it’s for you pair a deuces?" K.E. teased them, although anyone could see there was enough food for a small army. Ennis got out some plates and silverware, and they served themselves at the kitchen table, hungrily diving into the pork lo mein, Kung Pao chicken, beef and broccoli, eggrolls and house special fried rice.

After supper, K.E. suggested a couple of friendly hands of five card draw, quarter ante, buck-max.  
   
This was how it could be, them livin' and workin' together; and this was how it was gonna be, if they had anything to say about it.  
  
Jack noticed that Ennis had gone back to bein’ all quiet on him, but it was all right.   Ennis had said everything he needed to say anyway, and it was all Jack needed to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was posted in 2008 at Brokeback Slash and Wranglers.


	25. Willin'

Well, a couple three days turned into a week, and Jack decided he’d better get himself back up to Lightnin’ Flat.

He threw a few things into his suitcase; but didn’t take much. Most everything that was important to him was here. Even his uniform was left hanging in the closet at the Del Mar’s.

"We better get movin’ if we’re headin’ up ta Lightnin’ Flat this mornin’." Ennis said. "You drivin’?" he asked as he tossed the keys to the pickup to Jack.

"I guess I am now." Jack said, almost missing them. _Just as well_ , he thought. It would keep his mind busy.

"Will you be back for calvin’ time?" Grace asked Jack. She’d gotten home from Casper the day before.

"Sure will." Jack said.

* * *

"Jack, ‘bout time you met my daughter. The next time I’ve got her for the weekend, I’d like for you to meet her."  Ennis said, as they drove. "Would you like to?"

"’Course I would." Jack said.

"My sister's kids are comin’ out too, my niece and nephew, Sarah-Jane and Jesse. The kids’ll like seein' the calves runnin’ around."

"I’m sure they will." Jack said.  Jack seemed a little preoccupied, and Ennis knew why.

Ennis slept most of the drive after that; slumped in the passenger seat, his cowboy hat down over his eyes. Jack was lost in thought as he drove, passin’ cities and towns one after the other, or open stretches of landscape the soothing color of early spring, thinkin’ of what Ennis had said to him about movin’ in together, and some of what he had written in his letter:

_. . . thinkin’ a you over there, and what mighta happened, and when ya got shot . . . if I ever lost ya, Jack, I couldn’t stand it.  And I’m smart enough ta know when I’ve been given another chance. You know I ain't much with words, but Jack, I swear . . . I’m gonna make it all up to ya._

Jack thought of a lot of things on eight-hour drive to Lightning Flat.

He had gone to a gay bar or two when he was in Seattle, in Pioneer Square, not so much to meet anyone or to find a lover as to connect with others who were like himself, others who might understand. It gave him strength.  _So that’s what they're callin’ us now, gay,_ Jack remembered thinking and smiled to himself.  The only one who might have stood a chance with him anyway and rivaled Ennis in the slightest was Lonnie, not that he hadn’t had any offers.   An old song came on the truck's radio just then, the sax solo in it making him recall slow dancing with a man at a nightclub there, tentatively at first, then relaxing in his arms, the music low and smoky.  Like a man's voice.  
  
Funny how things turn out; all that time there had been noone else but Ennis for him; but just when he thought everything was settled with Ennis, along came Lonnie. But that was only what might have been; Ennis was his now and the future. He hadn’t even been able to attend Lonnie’s memorial service because he’d been laid up. He did write to Lonnie’s family in New York with his condolences. Lonnie’s mother had written back to him, saying how much she had been touched by his letter, and invited him to visit. Perhaps he would, one day.

He’d always felt so alone in his feelings, growing up on the isolated ranch. He'd been compelled to read and find out about others who might feel the same way he did. He’d gotten so many negative messages, tellin’ him to feel this way was wrong, some subtle and some not so subtle. For K.E. and Ennis, it had been even worse, seeing the aftermath of the crime that was done to Earl Johnson.

Jack gave Ennis' shoulder a gentle shake.

"Ennis, wake up. I’m gonna stop in the next town for a bit. Need to take a leak. Wanna get somethin’ to eat and some coffee?"

"Yep." Ennis grunted in the affirmative.

Lightning Flat, WY - April 1969

Jack pulled into the old familiar driveway of the white-washed farmhouse that was his boyhood home. His mother came out to greet them _._ He ached with guilt about leaving his family, he was their only son, and there wasn’t anyone else to help them. But he had to live his own life too. If only it wasn’t such a friggin’ long haul to and from Sage, he might be able to spend more time with them.

The ranch had long since stopped producing cattle, and was now growing alfalfa, corn and wheat.

Ada Twist hugged her son.  "Your Uncle Harold’s comin’ tomorrow ta see ya." she told him.

"Ennis, so nice to see ya again.  Stayin' for supper I hope."  she said, and Ennis said that he was.

Jack’s father joined them; Ennis had a few opportunities to meet Jack’s mother, but only had spoken to Jack’s father on a couple of occasions. The elder Twist studied him with a calculating eye, making even Ennis a bit uncomfortable under his gaze, and they went into the house.

"Welcome home, son." Jack’s father said, poured them all a drink to toast Jack’s homecoming. "I’m proud of ya." Jack didn’t know if he’d done much over there to be proud of.

John Twist was in a rare good humor, chatting with Ennis about the ranch business, Ennis’s hard work and knowledge impressing him.

As they sat down to supper, Jack said, "Me 'n' Ennis, we’re gonna move in together, soon as we can afford it."

"Well, splittin’ the rent and expenses, that’s just fine for now." Jack’s father said. "But now that the war’s behind ya, you’ll be thinkin’ about settlin’ down eventually, find yourself a nice gal, I expect."

Jack could feel his jaw tighten, but didn’t say anything, it was only a start. He’d finish this conversation later after things had quieted down, no reason to start up a ruckus right now and upset everyone _._

"The first thing I need to do is look for work." Jack said.

"Why don’t you go down and see Hank Gleason at the feed mill. He’s been lookin’ for someone to help out at the feed store. I mentioned that you were coming home, told him you might be interested. At least it’s somethin’ until your leg’s healed, and you figure out what you want to do." Jack’s father said.

"I’ll go and see him." Jack said, making a mental note to drive over to see Hank at County Tractor and Supply sometime during the week.

After supper, Jack followed Ennis out to the front steps.

"I’ll see you soon." he said, rubbing Ennis’ back, wanting to kiss him.

"See you." Ennis said, and walked to his truck. Jack turned and went back into the house.

He decided to talk to his father, who was watching the evenin' news on television in the living room.  No sense delayin' the inevitable.  
  
"Pa, there’s somethin’ I need ta tell ya. Like I said earlier, me ‘n' Ennis, we’re gonna live together. Any settlin’ down I’ll be doin’ in this life is gonna be with him." He braced himself for the tirade that was sure to come. He’d heard most of it many times before, so he was used to it, but this time he was no longer a boy.

John Twist just sat there at first, not sure what to say.

"What’d you just say, boy? ‘Cause I ain’t sure I heard you right. Sounds to me like you just told me you’re gonna shack up with another man like a couple a queers?"

"You heard right." Jack said.  His father got up and turned off the television.

"Well, now, if that just don’t beat all. Thought the war might have made a man outta ya, but you’re still the same goddamn thorn in my side ya always were. I’ve got a mind ta throw your ass out of this house right now, if I didn’t need ya around here." he said.

"Do what you have to, Dad." Jack said. "You either accept me as I am, or ya don’t. I hope you’ll understand, and if ya don’t, that’s up to you, but this is how I’m gonna live my life. If ya want my help around here, I’m happy ta give it, but this is who I am."

"John?  What's goin' on in here? Fine way to speak ta your son after he just got home." Jack’s mother came into the room, concerned after overhearing their raised voices.  
  
"Ada, nevermind. Go on back ta what ya were doin'."  Jack's father snapped.

"Ma, it’s alright." her son reassured her.  
  
"Well, he ain’t welcome here no more." his father continued.

"His name is Ennis, and I’ll thank ya to treat him with respect. So what does that mean? If _he_ ain’t here, then you can pretend it’s not true? Dad, I’m a gay man. Homo. Queer.  Whatever you want to call it. And I ain’t ashamed of it." Jack said.  
  
"What’d ya have to go and do this for?" Jack’s father pleaded; gettin' that look in his eye that Jack remembered from his childhood, when his Daddy was gonna hit him, but Jack stood his ground.  
  
"But you like Ennis."  Jack continued.  "What's changed about him?  Nothin'!"  
  
"Why do ya have to cross me at every turn, Jack."

His father turned and stormed out of the room, waving his hand as he left, as if washing his hands of the entire matter.  
  
_Well, that went a lot better than I thought it would._ Jack thought, as he went to say goodnight to his mother.

She patted his arm, and gave him a look that told him she had known all along. "Don't you worry, Ennis is welcome here, anytime, as far as I’m concerned." she said.

"I love you, Ma." Jack said as he kissed her goodnight.  
  
"Love you too, son." she said.

* * *

  
As Jack came downstairs the next morning, his father had just finished breakfast, rinsing out his coffee cup in the sink. He barely looked at Jack, and didn’t acknowledge what had happened the evening before. Of all the things Jack had imagined would happen as a result of his telling his father about himself, ignoring it hadn’t been one of them.

The letter from Lureen was still on the kitchen table. Jack got himself a cup of coffee, sat down and opened it.  
  
_Dear Jack,_ he read.  
  
_I hope this letter finds you well._

 _There's no easy way to tell you this, so I’m going to just come right out with it._  
  
You always do, Jack thought in amusement, remembering Lureen's outspokenness, and continued reading.

_I’m sure you remember Lien-li Tran.  Well, it appears you had a son with her. I have enclosed pictures of him, and you can see for yourself, he’s beautiful. His name is Robert, Bobby for short.  I can assure you he's being well cared for.  It was Lien-li’s wish that he go to American to be with his father, and she asked that I contact you. Still, I understand that this news is a surprise, to say the least, and you understandably might feel hesitant._

_Please get in touch with me about what you would like to do. I’m more than happy to help out on this end. You might want to get started by contacting the State Department, but the situation is so unstable here, our best bet may be to work through the Red Cross, a humanitarian organization, or another non-governmental organization._

_Congratulations, Mr. Twist, you have a son._

_Sincerely,_

_Lureen Newsome_  
  
There was a photo included of a handsome little boy of about three years old, with dark hair and big blue eyes, and another one of Lien-li with him, her beautiful and serene expression belying the tremendously difficult decision she must have felt she had to make.

Jack was shaken. First, the confrontation with his father, and now this.

Of course he remembered Lily, his name for her. Jack was dumbstruck for a few moments – the thought that he had created life in such an environment of death and misery gave him pause. But then the gravity of being a father struck him soon after that – _holy shit, I’ve got a kid, what the hell do I know about kids_? And then the inevitable – _is he mine? How do I know he’s even mine?_  
  
He didn’t know the first thing about raising a child. But Ennis sure did.

Sage, WY - April 1969  
  
The cattle were given their vaccinations a few weeks before calving, in anticipation of the births.   All in all, it was fine calving season – with Ennis, Jack, K.E., the hired hands and Grace. There was one breech birth, but the calf was delivered healthy and brought to his mamma. There were minor injuries, cuts and scrapes, bumps and bruises, from the kicks and general annoyance of the cattle. One little calf's mamma didn’t take to him right away, so Grace stepped in, cleaned him up and bottle fed him amidst all the commotion and noise. Doc Healy, the Lincoln County vet, was called in to help with the breech birth, as he made the rounds of the cattle ranches.  Once the calves put on some weight, about June or July, it would be time to make the trail drive to summer pastures.   The little cow and calf operation was becoming a reality.  
  
Ennis stayed up half the night with a first-year heifer having a difficult birth, and he was up most nights with K.E. and the ranchhands, checking on the cattle, working by flashlight.  He’d have to consider changin' their feeding schedules so’s they’d have most of their calves in the daylight next year. He still had so much to  learn.  The calves were tagged once they were born, left ear for the heifers, right ear for the bulls, given a multivitamin/mineral shot, and the bull calves were castrated.

* * *

  
Jack got to meet Ennis' little girl.  
  
"Jack, this is my daughter, Alma Jr." Ennis said proudly, carrying little Alma Jr. in his arms.  
  
"Alma, say hello to Jack."

"Hey there, Alma." Jack said, and the little girl shyly buried her face in her Daddy’s shirt collar. She turned to look at Jack, smiled, and then promptly hid her face again.

"Awwww, honey, it’s okay, no need to be shy." Ennis said, kissing her on her forehead.  In time, Jack would become like a second father to her.

Later, Jack broke the news to Ennis about Bobby, and Ennis wasn’t surprised, not really.  Ennis came up beside him and touched his shoulder, knowing what Jack was thinking. He looked at the photograph of the little boy.  
  
"God don’t hand out good looks like yours to just anyone, I expect." he said.  
  
Jack asked Ennis what he thought about it; as usual, Ennis got right to the heart of the matter and said, "Don’t matter what I think, good, bad, or indifferent - facts are that the child is here and you’re his father." Ennis added that he was in no position to judge anyone, seein’ that he’d been married and had a child of his own. He’d been through the same thing Jack was goin’ through now.

"Ennis, this all happened when I thought it was over between us, K.E. told me ya got married, had a baby, and I thought . . .I don’t know what I thought, I didn’t think . . . I guess I tried to . . ." Jack stammered. Jack needed to explain, Ennis said he didn’t need to, but Jack felt he had to. 

"All that was before I ever met you, Jack.  I know what ya mean, I think we both tried to."

Jack wondered if maybe he was given this chance to do right by everything that had happened over there, at least for his part in it.  Where the hell did he begin.  
  
"Dunno what I'm gonna do, Ennis."

"If you're wonderin’ if I’ll help ya, I’m willin’ to, Jack. And since ya asked what I think about it, I think it’s pretty nice.  Not sayin' that it ain't gonna be hard.  But you know that.  And that's about as philosophical as I'm ever gonna get."  Ennis said with a wink.  "Now, I gotta get back to work."  
  
Jack couldn’t speak, but he felt like a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He was just so grateful that he had Ennis; Ennis surprised him all the time. Whatever he’d done in his life, whenever he looked at Ennis, he knew he must have done somethin’ right. The child was an innocent, the circumstances didn’t matter. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but they’d make it all work, somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was posted in 2008 at Brokeback Slash and Wranglers.


	26. A Dream at Last

Winter Count/Snowed In – Early November 1975

They had plenty of seasoned firewood, and food stocked, animals taken care of, in anticipation of the first big storm of the season. Jack turned on the television, the weatherman with an update on a storm front moving in from California that would drop a possible two to three feet of snow in the Intermountain region and the Dakotas.  Ennis pushed aside the curtains and peered out the window.  The snow was already starting to come down heavy.  They had closed up the bunkhouse for the season, and it was best not to chance driving anywhere.  He'd prepared supper; chicken was baking in the oven, vegetables and rice cooking on the stove burner.

"Bobby, supper's almost ready." Ennis called gently, as he finished up making the salad.

"Be right there." Bobby answered, coming out to help set the table.

Ennis went into the living room, sat on the couch next to Jack and rubbed his back, while they waited for supper.  Jack was watching the television with rapt attention.  The war had officially ended in April of '75, with the fall of Saigon, in confusion and futility as the North overtook the South, and although Jack didn't talk about it much before, he did sometimes now have an opinion to share with him, or K.E., someone at the post office or at the coffee shop in town, and had been glued to the television news most nights.  He'd begun wearing his old Army field jacket when he wasn't working and just knocking around, "TWIST" stenciled on the left pocket in block lettering.  It was comfortable now.

 

* * *

 

Jack, half asleep, reached for Ennis, finding nothing but the warm, empty space where he had been.  _Must've gotten up_.   He awoke to the sound of Ennis’ voice on the telephone.

_"Okay . . . . I’ll head out, soon as the roads are passable . . . all right . . . 'bye."_

Ennis came back to bed, moved in close to Jack, giving his shoulder a gentle shake.  
   
"Jack, I gotta go, soon as the roads are clear . . . my boss called, some lines down due to the storm . . ."   Ennis whispered to him, in his soft Western drawl.  
  
He was still taking on a few hours at the power company when he could, partly to keep up his electrician's license requirements, and he was on call.   Jack knew Ennis took pride in and got a lot of satisfaction from his work as an electrician, and he was pretty sure that too much routine and bein' stuck indoors behind a desk too much just might be Ennis' idea of Hell.   It worked out well when it was slow at the ranch, and when things picked up again in spring, he'd cut back his hours again.   Jack was looking forward to it, his head was filled with more 'n a few ideas that he wanted to pitch to Ennis, about some improvements to the business, and about runnin' the place come spring, once he and Bobby got settled in at the ranch.   It would be interesting to see how Ennis took to his suggestions and ideas for change.  Jack smiled.  He always did like a challenge.

Jack glanced over at the clock on the nightstand; it was four a.m.  He groaned, his head falling back against the pillows.  
  
"I'll put on some coffee."  he mumbled, still half asleep.  
  
He dragged himself out of bed, rubbing his eyes, pulled his jeans up over his boxer shorts and threw on a sweatshirt, and made his way sleepily to the chilly kitchen to put on a pot of coffee; Ennis could take some with him in a thermos, and to see about fixing him something to take for lunch.  He turned on the radio, out of habit, to follow the farm and weather report.  Ennis looked around for the batteries, flashlights and candles, and got out the hurricane lamp, just in case.

"I’ll take care of everything 'round here, Bobby’ll want to help his ol’ man out I’m sure."  
  
There would be no school today.  Bobby had inherited the old room up under the eaves, where Jack used to sleep when he stayed here.  He'd let Bobby sleep for a little while longer.  
  
Junior's room was down the hall; Ennis had been so concerned with getting it fixed up just right for her, the way a young girl would like, so much so that he had enlisted Grace's help in getting it ready it for her, putting up curtains and such, but Jack knew Junior didn't care what it looked like, so long as she had a place here at the ranch.   Bobby now attended the same school as Junior.

 

* * *

 

Roads closed.  Snowfall to snowfall.  A year since Ennis' mother was gone.  Jack stared out the storm window, frost patterns blooming like ferns on the outer edges of the panes, out at the drifts piled high up against the house and the fence lines, the trees covered with it.  Sure was pretty though.    Bobby came to the window and peeked out too, his warm breath on the ice-cold glass breaking through the frost for a little bit.  
  
Looking over at the windows, Ennis said, "Looks like Jack Frost was about last night."  
  
"Don't look at me, I had nothin' to do with it."  Jack teased, winking at Bobby.  
  
"Dad, Ennis said Jack Frost, not Jack Twist."  Bobby said, pouring himself some cereal into a bowl.  
  
Jack put his hand behind one ear, pretending that he couldn't hear him and said, "What?  What was that?  Didn't hear ya."  
  
"Jack Twist."  
  
"What?  Say again?"  
  
"Da-ad."   Bobby giggled, and Ennis laughed from the kitchen.  
  
Ennis came back and set down a platter of scrambled eggs, bacon and golden halves of French toast dusted with cinnamon and powdered sugar.  
  
"Help yourselves."  he said.

They had a plow blade attached to Ennis’ old truck, or they could use the tractor, and the first thing they'd have to do was get the driveway done so's Ennis could get out and have access to the road, and the areas around the pens and barnyard so they could get to the cattle and horses with the bales of hay.  They had put up snow fencing that would contain most of it, and divert it away from the barn area.  Later, if he could, he'd drive over to Tom's and see if they needed any help.  Josh was away at college in Laramie; and between old age and the accident, ol' Tom wasn't getting around so good anymore.  
  
  
Christmas 1975  
  
Ennis started down the steps to bring in some more firewood.  The house looked beautiful for the holidays; they had draped garlands of evergreen boughs tied up into swags with red bows along the porch rails, and a fragrant wreath with another big red bow hung on the front door.  The lights of their Christmas tree twinkled, warm and diffuse, through one of the panes of old glass in the living room window that still remained at the 1910 farmhouse.  The mantel was decorated with more evergreen boughs, and the giant cones of the pine trees they'd brought back from Lake Tahoe on a trip to the Sierras, which had included a quick, fun side stop in Reno for some bright lights, a little gambling and closin' down the honky-tonks.  
  
He heard Jack hootin' and hollerin' as he and Bobby busted through the snow with the plow, with Indie yip-yappin' in the front seat with 'em, throwing it into reverse and then forward again.   Indie, or Indigo as they had named him, was their little dog, they had kept one of Kiah and Billy's pups, their blue heeler cattle dogs, as a pet.  
  
"Watch it there, Rodeo Cowboy." he called out, chuckling as he stomped his boots on the front doormat to get the snow off 'em, and then took the firewood inside.   Jack could find joy in most anything.  
  
Once they got the driveway plowed and got cleaned up for the day, Jack came downstairs and found Ennis finishing a cup of coffee and a smoke, idly flicking the ashes onto a saucer for a makeshift ashtray, listening to the radio as he waited for word on the roads.  Just before he left, Jack heard Ennis call to check in on Junior.  
  
"You be a big help to your Daddy now."  he said to nine-year old Bobby, ruffling his hair and giving him a quick kiss on the top of his head, and Bobby piped up "I will."  
  
"Be home as soon as I can." Ennis said before heading out the door, and then sliding his two-way radio into his tool belt, shrugging into his coat and grabbing his hard hat, the thermos of coffee and his lunch, and the keys to Jack's newer dually 4 x 4, instead of his old truck.  
  
"Might be half the night." 

"Be careful." Jack said.

 

* * *

  
Ennis returned home late; took a hot shower and sat down in a tee shirt striped pajama bottoms on the bed in their master bedroom, turning his head one way and then the other to ease the crick in his neck and shoulder from working too long a time in the same position.  The shower had helped. 

This place was his heritage, and it was Jack's, too, Jack having bought in to the business, made his own financial contribution to the partnership; and noone gonna run 'em off because they wanted to be together.  The house was part of the ranch and business, and as such, fell under the business partnership as joint property; a new deed was drafted and filed with Jack's name added to it, owned as joint tenants with right of survivorship.  Half his, half Jack's - lock, stock and every last barrel.  
  
The lights again flickered a few times, they'd been threatening to go out all evening, and then finally did.   Jack lit a candle, and then the hurricane lantern, setting it on the nightstand.   He had a fire going in the fireplace downstairs in the living room in case the power went out, and its heat had risen throughout the upper levels of the house, the beams of the walls and planks of the floors creaking as they expanded with the warmth.   Jack closed the flue once it went out, before he came upstairs to bed.  He came up behind Ennis, massaged his shoulders.  
  
"That'll take the chill off."  Ennis said, leaning back into Jack and closing his eyes, the uncertainty of not knowin' when they'd see each other again now replaced with somethin' new, somethin' different; the comfort of bein' with each other most all the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally written in August of 2009.


	27. Lost Cause

Ennis, you got a letter here from Jack!" Grace called. The radio was on, music playing.

Ennis turned off the radio, dumb song irritated him. Grace handed the letter to him. He held it in his hands for a few moments, reading the outside of the air mail striped envelope that had been in Jack's hands just days before. These letters were his only link, a lifeline, to Jack. He read the address:

 

Mr. Ennis del Mar  
ó Conchobhair Ranch  
RR 10, Box 5  
Sage, WY

After a time, Ennis opened it: 

_Ennis,_

_Friend, this letter is a long time overdue. Hope you get it. Hope everyone is fine at the ranch._

_I'm doin’ okay, haven't gotten my ass shot yet by Charlie, so that's a good thing I guess. That's what we call the the VC. Enclosed some pictures for you. Some places are real nice, beaches and mountains. Hell of a way to go sightseein' though. Some things not so great - critters 'n' bugs like you've never seen.  We saw a tiger from a distance one day, huntin' a deer._

_It's the monsoon season now, hotter 'n hell and pours rain most every day. Everything's flooded and damp all the time and can't get nothin' to dry.  Nothin' like Wyoming, that's for sure. Sure miss it, I think about Brokeback a lot. Some days I miss ya so much I can hardly stand it. Counting the days till I can come home. Ran in to K.E. too, he's flyin' helicopters over here, if that don't beat all._

_Not sure when I'll get a chance to write again, but I'll write as soon as I can. Don't know where I'll be from one week to the next sometimes. Sent off a letter to the folks in Lightnin' Flat too. I 'preciate your keepin' an eye on things up there._

_Say hello to your Ma for me and tell her we're doin' all right. Be sure to thank her for the care package she sent, we always enjoy the goodies. Thank her for thinkin' of us over here. Write when you can._

_Jack_

* * *

 

So much more Jack wasn't sayin' in the letter, Ennis knew. Leave it to his mother to be sendin' stuff over there. She was always worrying about K.E. and Jack, and all of the others too, truth be told.  Ennis smiled, and shook his head in amusement, imagining what kind of condition the package would be in when they finally did arrive in Viet Nam, a month or more later.  He knew Jack appreciated his mother's good thoughts, and the soldiers enjoyed them just the same, he was sure.

He could practically hear Jack's voice when he read his letters. He looked at the photographs of a foreign land, and tossed them and letter across the kitchen table.

"I should be over there, too," he said, torn. God, he missed him.

"Already got K.E. and Jack over there.  Won't do nobody any good havin’ you over there too, ‘specially the way things are ‘round here now, Ennis, " Grace said, not wanting to lose both of her sons in a pointless war. "but if you want to go, I can’t stop ya."

Ennis thought back to when he had taken Jack to the bus station, and then his brother not long after that, his mother tearful as they left.

"I'm fed up to the ears with old men dreamin’ up wars for young men to die in." she had cried. "You don't see none a' them or none a' their boys goin'."

It had been almost three years.

That night, before Ennis turned in, he went to the closet, took out the denim shirt that Jack had left behind in his haste to leave when he overheard him and K.E. arguing. He and Jack had made love before Jack left for the Army.   _"Want you, Ennis."_ Jack's voice was rough in his ear; Ennis turned to look into heavy-lidded eyes, full of lust.   Ennis had wanted him just as much, something to hold onto, a memory, of Jack once he was gone. 

"Jack, you're gonna make me drive off the road, aw, shit," Ennis had said, once Jack started touching him. He'd given serious thought to pullin' over so that they could go at it right there in the truck, this feelin' between 'em always so strong.  They couldn't keep their hands off each other then, stopping at the first motel they found, a cheap place halfway between Lightnin’ Flat and Sage, both of 'em burnin' this all-too-short time together into their minds to get through the long dry spell up ahead.

So much for spending a few days up in the mountains like they had originally planned; Ennis and Jack ended up spendin' their last precious couple of days together in bed mostly, only leavin' the room when they went out to a nearby truckstop to eat, or get coffee on their last mornin' together.

He brought Jack’s shirt to his nose; it still smelled of him, but now only faintly. Ennis breathed in the scent of Jack’s skin, sweat, and Brokeback, savoring it. He never wanted to lose the smell of him, but he could feel what he’d had with Jack slipping away. He sent up a silent prayer that Jack would be safe, as tears streamed down his face.

He had contacted Alma a few days after dropping Jack off at the bus station. When he had gone to see her, to end things, she was visibly pregnant. Alma Jr. was two and a half now. He didn’t love Alma, never truly loved her he now realized, but he’d had to do right by his little girl. Had to make a go of it for Alma and his baby's sake. How in the hell was he goin' ta tell Jack that, make him understand?

 

* * *

 

They were married in a small, quiet ceremony, K.E. his best man, and Alma and his daughter were now living with him here at the ranch. Damn that all of this had to happen before he’d even met Jack, the night he’d had sex with Alma before goin’ up to Signal for the job up on Brokeback. But what could he do now, he was stuck with what he’d got, trapped in his own loop, couldn’t get out of it. He smiled to himself thinking how his mother would have had his hide, a child out there, and not at heart of their family where she belonged. He had done the right thing, the safe thing, but not what made him happy. But had he done all this for Alma and the baby, or for himself too? Chickenshit - all this time he'd been blaming K.E. for being afraid of the past, blaming their old man, his mother, Jack, blaming everybody, when deep down he knew it was he who was afraid, all along. Sometimes going back to the closet was the most comfortable thing.

He checked in on Alma Jr., little angel, who was sleeping peacefully in the next room. No, he didn't regret havin' little Alma, Jr. none.  He gave her a gentle kiss goodnight, and climbed into bed next to Alma, who was already asleep. Alma stirred slightly, but didn’t awaken. Why couldn't his life just have turned out the way he had planned? Of course, he could never regret meeting Jack and what they had either. It was the happiest time of his life.

"You got a postcard, from someone name a' Jack Twist?" Alma had asked one time, hearing so much talk of him at the Del Mar house. Seeing the letters comin' and goin' between 'em, and her moody husband's spirits lift whenever he received one, got Alma to wonderin'.

"Someone you cowboy'd with or somethin'?"

"Yeah, you could say that," Ennis said with a chuckle, forgetting himself momentarily, as he thought of him 'n Jack and the things they did. Just the two of them, up on the mountain.

"Uh, I mean, he's an old fishin' buddy, we're good friends from Brokeback days," Ennis quickly corrected himself.

"Oh," Alma had said, giving him a quizzical look, and then went back to fixin' supper, stirring a pot on the stove.

He needed to tell Alma, and Jack, the truth, about everything.

Ennis was lulled to sleep by the words of the song he'd heard earlier that day, playin' over and over again in his mind.

 

Nha Trang, Vietnam – August 1966

Jack sat in the bar, not far from the base military hospital. He was thinking about what K.E. had told him, later, after they had returned to base camp.

"Hey Jack," K.E. began. "Ennis tell ya he got married in any a them letters he's been sendin' ya?" K.E. had grinned at him, with that grin Jack despised.  The Cheshire cat of the Mekong.  Jack couldn't believe it.

"That so." he'd said, trying to look like he didn't care.

"Yep, and they have a little girl too, 'bout two 'n a half years old now. They call her Alma, Jr., and she's cute as a button."

No, Ennis had not told him that he had married Alma, much less had a kid.  Jack didn't let on, but the truth was, K.E. might as well have come over and punched him in the gut as tell him that news.

"Good for them, I'm happy for 'em." he had lied.

"'Course ya are. Well,  just between me 'n you," K.E. had then moved closer to Jack, put his arm around his shoulder, and with a false camaraderie, continued. "They had to get married, Alma bein' three months pregnant 'n everthin'. Guess you'll be findin' a gal a' your own one a' these days.   An' all's right with the world, ain't it?  And you don't have to worry yerself none about anythin' else, if you catch my meanin'.  See ya 'round the country club, bud." K.E. winked at Jack and left.

Jack certainly did catch his meanin'. Jack knew very well what could happen to boys like him in the Army if K.E. opened his big mouth. At best, K.E. could get him booted out; at worst, well, he had heard of the "blanket parties" where groups of soldiers would surprise someone they suspected of being queer in the barracks at night, throw a blanket over his head, and beat him, sometimes to death. Or his own unit might decide to frag him with a grenade, or friendly fire, noone the wiser that he didn’t just die out in the field.

He felt pretty safe in sayin' right then that he had never hated anyone quite as much as Ennis' older brother, goddamned fuckin' Warrant Officer helicopter pilot K.E. del Mar. Just couldn't stand him. He had been given the callsign of "Cowboy", cocky sonofabitch. And just his luck, this was one of the guys he had to depend on now to pull him out of the goddamned woods.

Why hadn't Ennis said anything? He knew why - the Ennis he knew would always do the right thing.  That included takin' care of his kids, and not makin' things harder for Jack while he was over here.  Somehow this made Jack care for Ennis even more, although it still made him a little crazy to imagine Ennis fuckin' somebody else while Jack was over here without him.  Jack knew Ennis didn't love Alma, couldn't, but that still didn't change the fact that their plans for that sweet life together wouldn't amount to nothin' now. He banged his fist on the bar in frustration.  _I guess that's it then, with Ennis 'n me_ , he thought to himself.

What Jack would have been surprised to know was that K.E. felt some guilt after he left Jack with that little bit of news. Twist wasn't a bad sort, really, and seems to be holdin' up pretty well in this hellhole too, K.E. thought. K.E. hated havin' to handle things like this, but it was for the best. He had to keep Jack away from Ennis. He wasn't goin' ta be no witness someday to a re-enactment of what had happened to Earl Johnson, only featurin' his younger brother this time. Whenever he remembered that, any guilt he felt was long gone.

 

* * *

 

The young nurse stood outside behind the military hospital after her shift, smoking a cigarette, her hands trembling. She was trying to quit, but not having much success. A nursing school graduate doing her obligatory two-year stint in the Army Medical Corps in exchange for payment of her nursing education, she was twenty-four, and still pretty green. Some of the things she’d seen happen to human beings in war, soldier and civilian alike, she never could have imagined in nursing school.  She had to be strong for them, when she felt like falling to her knees and sobbing.  Most days it took all of the strength she had.  Every time they lost one, a little piece of her died right along with them.  Her face was sometimes the last face they saw.

God, she needed to relax; maybe she'd try to sneak over to Tranh Nguyen's bar for a quick beer before heading back to the nurses barracks.  Tranh's little boy had been injured in a grenade explosion in one of the nearby villages, and had been treated at the hospital here.  He was always happy to see her, and she him.

She tossed away her cigarette butt, hopped into the hospital Jeep and headed over to the bar.  What she needed tonight was someone to talk to, some affirmation of life amidst all of the brutality and death.  And she was lonely.

As an Army nurse she was an officer, and officers were not allowed to fraternize with the enlisted men. The Army discouraged it, but human nature being what it was, it of course did happen.  Being one of the few American women on the base sometimes had it's advantages, and she usually didn't have a problem getting a drink, smokes, or company.   And she had always been a girl who, intentionally or not, found herself on the wrong side of the rules at times, bending if not breaking them.  Anything could be had if you knew where to look, and most did the best they could just to get by in this place.  Nothing serious of course, but she always followed her heart, it had never steered her wrong in life. She found that sometimes, doing the right thing butted heads with the rules.  If she was expected to comfort them and patch them up, what was so wrong about talking with them?  Plus, she was damn good at her job.

She and her fellow nurses saw just about everything here - they assisted in surgery, flew on evacuation runs, set up clinics in the local villages to treat cholera, malaria and other tropical disease epidemics; treated strung-out soldiers, eyes glazed over from heroin addiction.  Sometimes all that was needed was just to simply be there for them, talk to them, or be a link to their loved ones.  Sometimes there were lighter moments, but not nearly enough of them. She smiled to herself, thinking about when she'd see some of them lined up at the dispensary for antibiotics, unable to piss without excruciating pain, after coming back from R&R in Saigon and Bangkok.

At Tranh's, she noticed a good-looking soldier hunched over a beer, Special Forces patch on his sleeve. She thought she saw him stealing a glance or two over the course of the night.  He looked to be as good a candidate as any, and a damn sight better than most.  Never being the shy type, she walked right on over to him.

"What you waitin’ for soldier, an engraved invitation?" she asked in her Texas voice.   Jack looked up to see a beautiful auburn-haired nurse, the name L. Newsome, ANC" on the pocket of her fatigue jacket. She was a first lieutenant.

"Ma’am . . . " Jack moved to stand, but Lureen waved him off.

"Don’t get up.  I’m Lureen.  Lureen Newsome." she said as she held out her hand to Jack.  Jack shook her hand. Tranh was tending bar tonight, and the place was pretty quiet.

"Lureen, how you doing?" Tranh asked, coming over to take her order. Lureen ordered herself a beer.

"I'm fine, Trahn, just fine." she replied with a smile. "How's Binh feeling?" she asked.

"Doing okay now." Tranh answered, beaming at her.

Lureen turned to Jack and said, "Hope you don't mind if I join you.  What’s your name?" and sat down next to him, bold as brass.

Jack just stared at her in disbelief. "Ma’am….uh, excuse me for sayin' so, but you’re not supposed to be here, talkin' to me, you’ll get in trouble, hell, you’ll get me in trouble." Jack stammered.

"It’s fine, don’t’ worry." Lureen said, laughing. "So, what's your name, Sgt.?"

"Uh . . .  Jack. Jack Twist."

"Well, where you from, Sgt. Jack Twist? I’m from Texas, if you couldn’t tell by my accent.  Childress, Texas to be exact."

"Wyoming.  Little ranch way out in the back a'nowhere." Jack answered.

"Well, Wyoming, ever been to the beach?  I know a place where we can go, ya know, to talk for a bit, it’s not far." Lureen gave him a smile. "You wanna go?"

"Uh…. I dunno…. " Jack hesitated.

"C'mon, we’ll take the Jeep. Hey Tranh, can we get a couple of beers to go?" Tranh got their beers and as Lureen was going to pay him, but Tranh refused, telling her their drinks were on the house.

"What, my money's no good here anymore?" Lureen teased, and left her money on the bar as she got up to leave.

What the hell, why not, Jack thought, and against his better judgement, he went with her.  Lureen Newsome could have that affect on people.

They drove the short drive to the beach. Lureen spread out a blanket, and they sat down together on it, listening to waves and drinking.  The sun was setting, turning the world golden for a few brief moments.

"This is nice." Jack said. "You do this a lot, come here?"

"Whenever I have some free time, which isn't often, as you can imagine," Lureen answered.

"Got someone back home, Jack?" Lureen asked, after taking a swallow of her beer.  Up close, he was more than just good-looking, but strikingly handsome. He had expressive blue eyes with dark lashes, and framed by full, dark eyebrows, giving him a serious look, but in those eyes was a touch of sadness.

"Yeah. I mean, I did once." Jack replied, lost in thought, looking intently off into the South China Sea at the red-sailed junks and fishing sampans drifting slowly across the horizon, coming in for the day.

"Well, she is, or was, a lucky woman. Her loss." Lureen said.

"Ain't quite like that." Jack turned to Lureen. "Ain't no woman." he blurted out. Lureen's eyes met Jack's then, and she understood.

Jack couldn't believe he was telling someone this, telling anyone, much less a complete stranger, half a world away in the middle of a war zone.

"Oh." she said. "Well, I guess that makes things a little difficult then, doesn't it."

"Yeah, you could say that." Jack said with a wry laugh.

"Didn't start out that way, was the best thing that ever happened to me. But now it's not so easy."

"Never is, no matter what the relationship." Lureen said, and patted his arm. "I'm glad you told me. You can trust me, with whatever you want to talk about. It'll go no further."

"There was someone, for me too, once." she continued. "I was engaged, but broke it off.  My family liked him more than I did, I guess.  Good family, good future, good life for their little girl.  I wasn't ready for all of that.   So, here I am.   You runnin' away from somethin'?   You won't be able to, you know, outrun whatever it is you're runnin' from, I mean.  It'll catch up with you eventually.  Take it from one who knows."

Jack sighed and took a long pull from his beer bottle. "I s'pose not". he said.

"You find what your lookin' for here?"

"Yeah, I guess." she said.  It hadn't occurred to her before then, but now that she thought of it, Lureen took a satisfaction in being here.

"I've seen things noone should ever see.  But I'm happy that I'm here, doing what I can to help."

"We're lucky to have people like you." Jack said. He felt a sense of relief. "Thanks for listenin'. I should be gettin' back now."

"OK." Lureen said. They shook the sand out of the blanket, folded it up and drove back to the base.

"Well, it sure was nice to meet you, Sgt. Jack Twist." Lureen said, as she dropped Jack off back at Tranh's.

"Same here, thanks for the company." Jack said.

"Somethin' tells me everything's gonna work out."

"Oh yeah?  Glad you think so."  Jack wasn't convinced.

"I’ll keep an eye out for you, Sgt. Jack Twist."  She gave him a quick hug before he got out of the Jeep, and drove back to the nurse's barracks.


End file.
